Incubus
by Taipan Kiryu
Summary: G1. In search of endless energy resources, Megatron makes an unholy alliance with humans, but will soon find himself trapped in a game of seduction with a young princess in this dark tale of angst and obsession.
1. Sinners

**INCUBUS**

**Written and dreamed by Taipan Kiryu**

_Author´s notes: After a while of being fascinated by the world of TF fanfiction, I decided to write a story about the best villain of the cartoon universe. My goal in this dark tale is to keep Megatron in character and to show some other fascinating sides of his obscure personality. If I succeed or not, you will tell. I want to thank KayDee Blu who beta read this chapter. _

_I don´t own TF, only in my dreams. This is fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Sinners**

Beauty and violence don´t mix.

Sometimes though, they graze one another, circling the other but barely touching finger tips.

Temporal and perishable, millions of years of war are nearly impossible for an organic mind to comprehend. But when the logic belongs to sentient mechanoids, for whom time passes by in a very distinct way, things are very different.

With cumbersome thoughts of aging non existent, the fear toward death turns into something far more sinister. Dying no longer represents a peaceful end, but rather a violent spectacle of one's failed ambition at achieving everlasting glory. No one escapes such ghosts. The madness of it all - fighting a constant, merciless war where every battle may the last - become one with the killer instinct. And the only way to avoid it all is the hunger for survival.

Yes, violence and beauty don´t mix, but sometimes they exist together around a very thin line of peace, perishable and fragile.

And in that moment in time, that very line was inescapable.

In a distant room, very within the Decepticon Headquarters, a solitary silver Cybertronian was bowing over a repair berth, working on a huge cylindrical object, imposing and deadly.

That object was not the only prophet of destruction, though. The entire room was full of weapons. It was an arsenal, one of many inside the Nemesis ship, though this, in particular, was destined only to the High Commands of the most powerful army in the universe.

The only lightning barely illuminating the room was coming from outside the lonely circular window that was on one of the walls. Isolated, but big enough to provide a wide view of the symphony of marine life surrounding the Decepticon base. The outside lights were, as always, turned on, projecting their ghostly shines onto the cache of weapons that were orderly attached to the walls.

Megatron raised his head, listening. The rhythmic purring sound of the ship's generators stopped momentarily, just as they always did every night. Dimming his crimson optics, the Decepticon leader glanced out to the Atlantic Ocean.

Earth was a repulsive planet. And not only because of the filthiness of being an organic world. Earth possessed all the contradictions that disgusted him, the driving force behind his anger that led him into rising against his own kind.

But being on the ocean floor wasn't entirely displeasing. There was peace and logic. The night was eternal, just like on Cybertron. Only when alone, looking out to the darkness, could he fool himself into believing he was actually back home, even if that illusion only lasted for a few seconds. On the bottom of the terrestrial sea, there were no contradictions, corruptions or erratic behaviours. Life existed in perfect order.

Organic nature's message was clear.

_Predators hunting their preys, the mighty subduing the weak, the hunted living only to feed its hunter…_

That was life, the order that reigned in the universe to preserve it from chaos. It was a synonym of strength, not mercy.

He bowed his head and continued calibrating his fusion cannon. Deathly shines emanated from the destructive weapon as the Decepticon Commander grinned.

Beauty and violence could exist together.

After all, he, the ultimate predator, knew it.

* * *

The footsteps on the corridor were silent. Not one of them arrived within the audios of the Decepticon Supreme Commander. But the presence of the approaching mechanoid registered clearly throughout his sensors. He just knew.

Megatron lifted his newly calibrated fusion cannon at the darkness of the door´s threshold, not as a menace, but to test its aiming.

"Soundwave," he said in a low voice, knowing that his nocturnal visitor was already there.

The Decepticon Communications Officer emerged within the shadows, undaunted by the deadly weapon aimed in his direction.

Megatron lowered his cannon. The night glimpses of the ocean reflected on its polished surface.

Soundwave stepped forward and stood a few meters away from his leader.

"Contact established, Megatron," the monotonic voice informed.

The silver Transformer began to attach the fusion cannon to his arm. Soundwave remained silent.

Megatron continued attaching the painful connections that kept his weapon in direct contact with his logic circuits. He frowned, but not because of the pain.

His gesture had another origin. One didn't need to be telepathic in order to read the conflict of pride surfacing on the Decepticon leader then. Enough millenniums had passed for Soundwave to know when his leader had crossed certain limits. And whenever that point was reached, as the current situation was dictating, the expression held was one of acquired roughness to say the least.

"Did you let clear our conditions?" Megatron spoke again. The delicate brutal sounds of the fusion cannon wires penetrating his arm broke the stony silence.

"Affirmative. Humans are waiting for instructions."

Megatron finished attaching his weapon and looked at it proudly.

"What was the name again?" he asked.

"Monarchy," answered the telepath immediately.

"Monarchy, yes… Ironic, isn´t it Soundwave? Lifetime power acquired through genetic circumstances… yet another inconsistency on this little planet."

Soundwave didn't answer, but Megatron knew his lieutenant had all his attention focused on his words.

"And it´s precisely this monarchy which will give us a definitive advantage over the Autobots," the Decepticon Commander continued.

"Inheritance: illogical."

"Yes, Soundwave. Power must be conquered through might and consistence, not through absurd systems of heredity transmission… even less through common election."

Megatron walked over to the window. Aquatic peaceful reflections illuminated his evil grin.

"And these humans will learn with their blood the absurdity of their government methods," whispered Megatron caressing the surface of the window.

The silver Decepticon turned around and glanced at his lieutenant.

"Arrange a personal encounter for next cycle. It´s time to establish the rules."

"As you command, Megatron."

Megatron smirked. The grin stayed on his face long after Soundwave left to fulfill his orders.

_To be continued._

* * *

_  
Next chapter: Nightmares show their spines. Madness comes in fascinating shapes, and obsession has more than five faces. _

_Please read and review._


	2. Waiting for the worms

_Author´s notes: Thanks to everybody who read and reviewed. Please keep doing so. Infinite thanks to KayDee Blu, who beta read this second chapter of my insane trip into Megatron´s dark zone. _

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Waiting for the worms**

Prisons come in many shapes.

Some are dark, naked, damp… agonic carcasses of sin that castrated freedom and degraded survival instincts into more primitive levels.

Restriction of freedom was the ultimate punishment. Killing couldn't even compare. Death was a quick solution and left a very small place for suffering. But being locked up was being buried alive. It was the complete lack of everything meaningful, an eternal putrefaction that gnawed away every trace of individuality.

As long as the mind is free, confinement of the body is secondary. That's what they say. That's what they teach.

Big lie.

Much more than the prohibition of free will, it was the absence of intimacy that preceded madness.

Eternal eyes fixated on one's back… one of many paranoid thoughts a prisoner endured. Bars were an unnecessary burden. The mere knowledge of being watched was enough to subdue the most independent of consciousness.

And there were dreams too.

Even the most beautiful sleeping fantasy could not separate the surreal fog impregnating every frustrated desire.

Ignorance was always welcomed, but it was an impossible blessing. Prisoners never forget what they are.

Yes, prisons come in many shapes, colors, textures… Ones carved from sharp vortexes of diamonds, ones that smelled like gardenias – delicate as the finest silk – saturated in the delicious tastes made to please the most exigent of senses.

Incarcerated beauty and softness.

And this day of summer, a peculiar beautiful prisoner stood with her bare and delicate feet on the white carpet. The luxuries around her were meaningless, routine. Her hunger for freedom had become primitive and instinctive, a soft petal of confined madness.

* * *

Starscream dimmed his optics at the inclement sun above the desert.

Visual circuits of Cybertronians were incredibly sensitive. The capacity possessed toward adapting to all situations light or dark, was simply amazing. And, through his agitated existence, Starscream had been presented with plenty of chances at challenging his optical abilities.

That's why it was so strange that particular moment he was feeling a singular disturbance penetrating through his crimson optics.

Unless his annoyance had another reason, of course.

That guardian star from planet Earth, the source of light and heat, generator of life… that was the culprit for the shattered patience the Air Commander of the Decepticon Aerial Elite was suddenly feeling.

Starscream deviated his glance from the Sun and walked to the darkest spot he could find in the temporal base the Constructicons had built only a cycle ago.

Though to call that a base, even though temporal, was more than presumptuous. To his egocentric point of view, it was nothing more than a primitive shelter unworthy of a high ranking officer. The reduced dimensions of the base left no place for nothing but his latent pangs of humiliation. It would have been much more benevolent for his circuits to have stayed inside the small metallic space that contradicted the yellow and dry landscape outside, but Starscream's instinctive claustrophobia kept him away from the only zone that harshly opposed the asphyxiating heat.

And he wasn't the only one. Two more mechanoids shared his train of thoughts.

A couple of hundred yards from the improvised base, Skywarp and Thundercracker were also following their Seeker freedom instincts.

It wasn't only the heat. The regulative sensors of Transformers were more than capable at counteracting any extreme temperature. But the particular zone of planet Earth they currently were in, challenged a cybernetic being's adaptation abilities with extreme annoyance and physical discomfort. Insects and sudden wind storms were not what sentient mechanoids were used to dealing with, especiallythe overwhelmingly nuisance the sand covering the area added on top of it all.

It was everywhere, on the ground, in the dry air... Practically no joint on Starscream's body had not been invaded by that disgusting mixture of rock and terrestrial minerals.

He had never felt so dirty.

The daily anti corrosive showers his personal quarters were equipped with had never been enough to keep the terrestrial weather damages under control. And now, with the desert land revealing itself as a new ruthless enemy, intolerance toward planet Earth had reached an epic level of hatred within the trifling Second in Command.

Starscream glanced over at his two wing mates who were looking at something in the sand. Skywarp's mischievous laughter and the deep reflexive voice belonging to Thundercracker carried through the wind into the audio components of the Air Commander. Anger simmered inside him from their non expressed contempt toward the less than favorable climate conditions.

Starscream snorted in frustration and walked toward them, giving a last dirty look at the dazzling yellow disc shinning over his head.

* * *

Skywarp was kneeling, the sand covering partially one of his joints. Thundercracker was standing in front of him, softly shaking his head with a notorious grimace of disapproval.

Getting closer to his wingmates, Starscream caught sight of the thin cable like cord twisted around Skywarp's finger. The Decepticon Second in Command didn't hide his disgust when he distinguished the movement of skin and muscles that announced the presence of organic life.

Skywarp heard the steps behind him and turned around. He stood up, showing his hand to Starscream.

"Hey Screamer, check out my ring!" he said with a wide smile on his face.

Starscream's CPU quickly identified the meaning of that human reference. He felt a familiar sensation of contempt taking over him, just like every time something belonging to Earth's native culture was exposed before his analytical mind.

"Could you two stop spending your time so miserably?" he spat, making sure to give his voice the necessary charge of authority. "We have work to do!"

Skywarp ignored his superior officer's remark and continued playing with the rattlesnake he had twisted mercilessly around his finger.

"Work? We've been here for hours! I have fragments of all this slagging terrestrial sand in parts of my structure I didn't even know existed," said Thundercracker frowning.

"Orders are orders," Skywarp simply remarked as he firmly adjusted his improvised ring, which once again bit uselessly at the huge metal hands imprisoning it.

Starscream folded his arms across his chest. His face assumed his usual superiority features. "Orders? I would call them insanities! There is no single logic reason for us to be here overheating our circuits as this slagging granular material invades our joints!"

Skywarp tried harshly shaking the snake free, which by this time, seemed to be somewhat slower in reacting, if not outright injured to some degree.

"I hate to admit it, but I agree with you, Screamer. Those Conehead slags should be here frying their afts instead of us."

Starscream clenched his fists. He was so infuriated with the situation he didn't even notice Skywarp had called him twice by the nickname he deeply hated.

"And what for?" he continued, more talking to himself than to his wingmates. "Because of a slagging human leader and his slagging country?!"

"Nevertheless, that slagging country has the biggest energetic resources of this entire planet," said Thundercracker, his voice calm and ad hoc with the noiseless desert.

Starscream frowned. The blue and grey mech's ironic retort had a point. Those were precisely the words Megatron had informed him of his latest insane plan. As always, any attempt of complaint had been useless and promptly silenced. Starscream still had the aching painful memory on the right side of his head to prove it. It seemed Megatron was convinced the only way to make his stubborn Second in Command understand the basic functioning of his cold logic was through brutal force. The difference of opinions between both Decepticons was abysmal. Whereas Starscream would have taken by pure violence, Megatron decided for a diplomatic approximation. The reasons of that uncommon decision were a complete mystery.

As always, the Decepticon leader hadn't bothered in discussing the details of his plan with anyone else but Soundwave and, for the billionth time, Starscream had been left aside, which was the primary source of his current anger.

The insults, the painful close encounters with Megatron's fusion cannon, even the beatings were preferred…anything was better than the humiliating affront to his position of being relegated to an ordinary soldier.

So there he was, Second in Command of the most powerful army in the universe, suffering the discomforts of the annoying terrestrial weather, waiting for the signal of his despicable master to complete the degrading process of concreting an alliance with human creatures.

"Starscream?" asked Thundercracker, walking toward the Air Commander and moving his hand before his dimmed optics.

Skywarp smirked. Now was as good a time as ever to add corrosives to an already festering injury. "We lost him, TC. I think the weather overheated his neural circuits. Step aside!"

Thundercracker moved away just in time to avoid the tiny flesh creature Skywarp tossed toward Starscream's face.

However, the rattlesnake never reached its target. With an incredibly fast reflex showcasing the abilities that made him a deadly and extraordinary warrior, Starscream lifted his arm and vaporized the animal with his null ray.

Thundercracker twisted his mouth in disgust. "Repulsive. Was that necessary?"

"Not necessary, but fun," replied Skywarp, shaking sand from his right knee joint.

Starscream was about to make an offensive remark toward his black and purple wingmate but was interrupted by a familiar buzz through his comlink. He received Soundwave's codified message, ending the communication with infinite scorn.

"Megatron is coming. Proceed to meeting point," he said hoarsely as he rose from the ground with his boosters and transformed in the air.

Skywarp and Thundercracker followed him.

No remnants were left of what once had been a rattlesnake.

_To be continued._

* * *

_Next: Decepticons and humans… bad combination. The sharp edges of insanity. _


	3. Venus falling

_Author´s notes: Situations narrated in this story are entirely fictional and bear no relation toward any country, ideology, religion or governor. Any similarities are purely coincidental. This is a fanfiction written exclusively for entertainment purposes and has no intention at giving any statement or critique._

_Thanks a lot to my beta reader KayDee Blu._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Venus falling**

Authoritarianism had its advantages: pacified submission, pleasant consolations for the endless seduction of bread and circus, perishable and relative, but consolations after all. It was easy renouncing to freedom.

But if those games of domination and slavery are attractive enough to an ambitious tyrant, the possibilities of complete authority are endlessly delightful. Tryrants never hide behind demagogic disguises of freedom, no... they govern with an iron fist, turning obedience into not only an obligation, but a way of life.

King Kadar wasn't the most impressive person in the world. His low height and chubby figure inspired nothing in way of respect. However, everyone prostrated before him as they would before a titan.

The man was not only head of an entire nation, but the living motor of his own private utopia made possible by the huge machinery domination functioned as. He had learned a long time ago the best way at suppressing all competence was recoursing to the most literal meaning of the word. Countless heads had been separated from their bodies during his reign and the ones that remained attached to their respective necks only knew to nod and obey.

It was fear, not respect, in which King Kadar based his entire government system.

And it was that security, that certainty of inspired fear and submission which led the king that morning in July. Every step was given with the knowledge that the ground below his feet belonged to him. Scandalous luxuries, thousands of soldiers under his command... a mere extension of the monarchy owned by heredity right – self serving convenience that extended to every man, woman, and child living under the reach of his power.

Half closing his brown eyes, the wrinkles below them increased. A smile. Exalted arrogance. A half mile away, several metallic structures were aligned. It was there where his true power existed, his biggest pride. The black gold, a deceptive token that had made him an enemy in the eyes of the rest of the greedy world.

Petroleum.

An approach to divinity.

But that July morning, watching those immense petroleum fields, anxious feelings were with him. They were not his property anymore. Words had been said. Conditions had been accepted. The day had arrived for him to sold himself and his entire country to the ambition of foreign demons.

All he could do now was wait. A transformation was looming. Fantastic metallic giants taking over, continuing their ancient war on a young planet full of contradictions.

He had seen the threat and grabbed it. King Kadar had been one of the few that had looked for advantages, declaring his loyalties before other ruling parties, more opportunists than him, could have the chance.

Yes. In just a matter of days the entire world would call him a traitor.

The king smirked, savouring the possibilities. Traitor today, conqueror tomorrow; the benefits would be countless. Unlimited ambition had found a way to success and his soul would be sold at the highest price.

A slight mutter dragged him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see many pairs of bare feet walking in unison beside one of the big fountains in the garden. An army of naked feet floated on the warm pavement. Their owners were covered entirely in white silk, only their bowed eyes being perceived.

But the king didn't look at them. His eyes were fixated on the supreme jewel those ethereal anonymous females were escorting, the only one who rivaled the affections of his precious petroleum fields.

Flesh created from his own flesh, and still she bore no physical resemblance to him. The princess Adara was the stylized image of her deceased mother.

Green eyes shined furiously, the only thing resembling her father. Superior dominance burned in them, a challenging fire not even her immense eyelashes could hide. The slender figure, wrapped in a violet tunic, continued advancing. Surrounded by white shadows, every one of them were alert to the movements of their master, but unable to watch her directly.

Adara arrived at her father's side, her servants stopping at a respectful distance, their heads bowed. The soldiers obediantly fixated their glances toward the ground in the presence of the princess, their rifles resting within their arms. To look the princess directly in the eyes was considered abhorrently offensive and all of them valued their heads enough to restrain themselves from the exuberant beauty of their ruler's daughter.

King Kadar frowned in disapproval, extending his arm to the girl.

"Cover your face," he ordered.

"You know I dislike it," was the openly defiant answer to an endless discussion.

The king's attempt at speaking again was stopped. Delicate hands held his own. Adara put them to her lips, soft juvenile lips caressing the hard knuckles of that rude hand with a filial kiss.

The monarch's knees trembled. How could such a delicate savage creature know such mesmerizing tactics in only eighteen years of life?

"You…"

Words died within his throat. He felt grateful when the sound of hurried steps on the pavement were heard.

His right hand man, General Ghazi, arrived running, his hand holding his beret, more to protect it from his own agitation than from the treacherous wind.

"Sir!" the man said, standing before his monarch.

The king glanced at the general, retrieving his hand from his daughter's grip.

Respectfully avoiding looking at the princess, the military leader spoke quickly. "Lord Megatron's emissaries have entered our aerial space."

Raising his arm, the king glanced at his golden watch. "Just in time… the punctuality of those machines is amazing."

The general didn't answer. He was used to listening to the comments of his king in absolute silence.

"Make sure to welcome them and lead them into the Grand Hall. I'll deal with Lord Megatron personally."

"Yes, sir."

Hastily, the general gave a military salute and then left.

Contemplating the entire scene, a malicious smirk rose on Adara then – open contempt exposed perfectly on every facet of her face.

"If he bowed any lower, he'd be licking the ground... a proper lover for that brute," she spat.

Having renounced the subdued irony his daughter was infamous for a long time ago, King Kadar shot her a reprimanding scold.

"Go to your room and stay there," he ordered harshly.

"No."

"Adara…"

"I want to meet them. I want to watch with my own eyes the machines that'll make my omnipotent father kiss the floor beneath them."

Ferocious fingers tightened on the princess's delicate skin. A sudden groan of pain emanated from Adara's lips as the brutal hand of the monarch held her wrist.

"You will go to your room and stay there!" he commanded.

With a foreign strength to that thin body, the princess liberated her sore wrist.

"Make sure you bow, father. Servants should never forget it."

It wasn't the moment, it wasn't the moment… when King Kadar knew those verywords would be repeated as he walked between the two lines of soldiers escorting him into the Grand Hall.

Dozens of bare feet stepping onto the pavement returned. Leaving the abrasive heat of the garden, the princess returned to the coldness of her marble prison, disappearing within a mask of empty white shadows.

* * *

Contempt was an understatement. Catching sight of the human facilities below, the three Decepticon Seekers arriving at their meeting point were, for once, of the same mindset.

Insects, little organic creatures delighting in their own filthiness, primitive beings unable to govern themselves but audacious enough to consider themselves worthy of an established alliance with the infinitely superior Decepticon Empire. Since when did worms dare to look straight into the eyes of a God?

However, the increasing disgust Starscream felt was only comparable to his disapproval of Megatron's newest plan. To reach such low levels of degradation was positive proof of the ineptitude for the one he was forced to call leader. But certain protocols were never broken. The Decepticon Air Commander knew perfectly what was expected of him. Not even his worst moments of arrogance could break him of that fact either. Painful memories of Megatron's rage alone was enough to keep his instincts under some sort of control.

Descending rapidly, the three Seekers transformed into their bipedal modes. Astonished human eyes and countless open mouths witnessed the trio take on the forms of humanoid robots, landing with grace and might.

Amazed at the awe inspiring spectacle they just saw, one of the humans finally stepped forward from the group of soldiers gathered. Slowly, he approached, walking toward Starscream who had already positioned himself ahead of his wingmates.

"G-greetings… you honor our country with your visit…" General Ghazi greeted. He had rehearsed those empty words so many times that when finally pronounced, they sounded completely strange, as if they were not words anymore.

Starscream glanced at the human with infinite disdain. At least the hesitation and fear reflected in the flesh creature's eyes was somewhat amusing.

"Spare me your stammering, human. Where is your leader?"

The brutal soldiers felt their knees shake hearing Starscream's voice. No one could escape the sensational nightmare of watching those metallic monsters talking and moving as any other sentient being would. It was insane.

General Ghazi cleared his throat. "He is waiting for Lord Megatron's arrival."

The mere mention of that name brought an immediate grimace on Starscream's face components. It would've only taken a few seconds to vaporize those insignificant humans into carbonized remains of bone and dirt. The field would be covered in human blood. Nothing could bring more pleasure in that moment... nothing.

And as the Supreme Commander of the Decepticons appeared on the horizon, Starscream's disgusted frustrations increased as the airborne figure drew closer.

Imposing flashes emanated around the silver newcomer. Flying beside him, Soundwave's navy blue figure caught the overwhelming sun's attention, a mute witness for the most incredible scene the little country had ever seen.

Frighteningly powerful, Megatron landed. General Ghazi sank to the lowest ranks of the soldiers beneath him, who went along with their lip biting in the hopes of avoiding passing out.

"L-lord Megatron… i-it's an immense pleasure…" he managed to stammer, not even knowing what he was actually saying. Controlling his fear had turned into his most urgent need at the moment. He couldn't help it… that immense cannon attached to one of the robot's arms. Even though his gaze was respectfully held downward, he was sure a single blast from that monstrous weapon could effortlesslydestroy his entire battalion.

"Take me to your leader at once," ordered Megatron, his powerful voice taking the air over and shaking every pair of ears.

General Ghazi bowed his head. The best repertory for flattery had arrived. "Please, follow me," he said, holding out his arm toward the palace.

Megatron advanced, Soundwave beside him. Skywarp and Thundercracker stayed behind. Beginning to make his way in, Starscream was abruptly stopped by the dark grey hand upon him.

"Stay here, Starscream, and keep guard," Megatron ordered.

Whatever oncoming protest the Air Commander was about to embark upon suddenly became obsolete. Brutal repression shined ominously in his leader's crimson optics. Only a pair of clenched fists demonstrated the restrained anger of the Second in Command whose increasing feeling of ultimate humiliation was reaching dangerous new levels.

Megatron and Soundwave disappeared through the enormous arch leading into the palace's entrance. Left behind were hundreds of human soldiers in rigid military formation and three Seekers who formed the aerial elite of the extraterrestrial army.

Hierarchies had been established.

* * *

The first time she saw him was between fishes.

Princess Adara emerged, as always, from within the shadows. No paternal command had succeeded in restraining her in the past and certainly that wasn't about to begin now, not when her interest had been so excitingly awakened.

She heard the sound, penetrating and imposing, of heavy footsteps not belonging to this world, metallic powerful footsteps testing the resistance of the fancy marble floors of the palace.

Adara stepped forward, looking for the origin of the sound. She paced among the few servants and soldiers who were with her on the second floor at that moment. They bowed their heads, not daring to look at her. Ignoring them as any other object she was so use to doing, Adara placed herself behind the huge aquarium in the hallway.

Thin jeweled hands brushed against the outside of the glass, caressing in effigy the form of a scorpion fish that was lying on the bottom.

The steps were getting closer, destroying the tranquility around her. Servants scurried to climb the ornately carved staircase that separated them from the relative security of the second floor but stopped in their tracks when they spotted Adara.

But the princess didn't even notice them. Lowering her face toward the bottom corner of the sea life haven, her breath blurred onto the transparent glass with foggy silence. It was in that subtle circle created by her own breathing where she saw him, the monster of silver metal.

Adara rubbed the fog on the fish tank and stared in total fascination.

Machines, was what they called them in the palace. _Sentient machines_, as one of her father's generals had corrected.

Adara's dark green eyes, outlined by a think black strip, followed the silvery slender robot who walked as if the universe was owned by him and him alone. She had stopped breathing. All contact with reality was lost, the cold glass of the aquarium, the scorpion fish... they didn't exist. Adara heard nothing. She saw nothing. Her lungs were paralyzed.

Imposing power_... _emanated authority in each one of his movements. Impressive physiognomy set upon high, the enormous canon attached to his one arm exceeding all destructive capabilities any human might attempt to produce.

Then, she heard it. The voice.

_His voice._

The princess staggered. Diamond rings awkwardly hit the glass, startling the small fishes that were waiting their turn to be devoured by the scorpion fish.

The voice stopped. His words had been few, dry and full of authority. Another robot was at his side, blue and white, a red visor in place of where eyes should've been, his face covered by a plate.

But Adara barely noticed him. She had to listen to that voice again, she needed it.

Her hands twisted when she saw both mechanoids walking toward the huge Grand Hall of her father's.

Abandoning her aquatic mask, Adara rushed toward the railing of the stairs. Focused reasoning was on her only caprice which had now become rampant.

Venus de Milo, the armless statue her father had placed magnificently at the top of the stairs, caught the princess's eye.

The palms of her hands pushed the figure's white surface. Nothing. Nothing more than a broken nail. Laying her head on the dead lap of the mutilated stone woman, Adara kept still. She would notbe denied.

The servants glanced at each other. The soldiers did the same. The eccentricities the princess regulary exhibited was something they could never get use to. And, even though they had strict orders, there was something in her that seemed inaccessible and impressive, even more so than her father.

Obsession took hold. Using all her weight, Adara pushed again. But the ear deafening crash the statue created from smashing onto the floor barely registered with the princess. Not even the blue robot who had briefly turned in her direction before the attention grabbing stunt had been completed was enough to distract her intentions.

Dark green eyes collided with two crimson optics belonging to the silver mechanoid. His stare... a fleeting moment... dimming suspiciously at the dozens of pieces that had once been a Venus.

The astonished soldiers glanced in confusion at the princess, unable to decipher the wild face that was breathing intermittently and those hands seized strongly onto the railing.

General Ghazi stepped forward, saying something, shouting... but she didn't comprehend his words. The silver robot's face filled with contempt at the exaggerated reverence the human officer extended to him, continuing to walk toward the huge archway leading into the Grand Hall of the palace.

With his sudden absence, Adara returned to herself. Once again, she was aware of the physical existence surrounding her. It was then she noticed the penetrating glance the blue and white robot gave her, a glance she firmly fought back with defiance. The mechanoid's red visor glimpsed briefly before he disappeared through the arch too, following his leader.

There was something else, something strong and devastating. It took some time for Adara to realize it was the beating of her own heart.

_To be continued._


	4. Premonition shadows

_Author's notes: __Thank you very much to the people who have been following this story. I apologize for taking so long to update, but I've been writing other fics and also am submerged in that unpredictable thing we call regular life (work, euphoria, broken hearts, routine…) I shouldn't say it, but I have a deep and particular love for this story, so you can be sure we'll ride this road till the end._

_An enormous hug to KayDeeBlu, who, despite being full of things to do, finds time to beta read my fics. SAHS._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Premonition shadows**

Standing on a big dune, Megatron delighted his vision with the sight of his new dominium, arms folded across his chest, face full of satisfaction.

He dimmed his optics, adjusting their inner sensors to the disagreeable luminousness the sun rays created on the sand. Unlike the rest of the Decepticons, the unstable weather conditions of planet Earth didn't bother him particularly. Finding comfort had never been a highly sought after accolade. Staying alert was priority. All adverse conditions of any kind were welcomed. It was the only guarantee of having one's guard up permanently.

Like attracted by those thoughts, a tall shadow approached from the left. Its proximity was felt long before the yellowish sand of the desert darkened beneath. Millions of years of protecting his back had taught the Decepticon Supreme Commander to detect certain presences.

"I never thought I would see this day," the newcomer's raspy voice said.

Megatron ignored his Second in Command and continued enjoying the view of the petroleum fields waiting to be dried. Dozens of humans were somehow managing to follow the orders of the Constructicons, who were adjusting the advanced Cybertronian energy extraction systems into merging with the primitive human technology.

Starscream also glanced toward the scene before them. He felt disappointed, even betrayed, to witness the Constructicons working so diligently. They didn't seem to be particularly bothered by collaborating with humans. They seemed absent, totally focused in their work. Scrapper directed his team with characteristic precision. And had that been a glimpse of amusement detected in Scavenger's visor right before he transformed into alt mode?

Starscream slightly shook his head in disapproval. "Even though I'm more than used to your insane ideas, I must admit you can still surprise me, Megatron. I never thought even you could reach these low levels of degradation," he continued, adding a generous amount of irony to his voice.

Megatron grinned, as if the words coming from his subordinate were a flattery and not an insult. "Your lack of vision is just one of the many causes of your immaturity," he calmly replied.

"Vision? And where does maturity fit when we ally a group of inferior creatures? Where is dignity, _visionary_ leader?"

Once again, Megatron chose to ignore the Air Commander's sarcasm and continued delighting his senses with the calculations of the immense amount of energy he would obtain. His energy.

"It would be a pleasure to explain you, Starscream, but I'm afraid such a simple argument exceeds the limits of understanding of your reduced intelligence."

Starscream frowned, fists clenching immediately. For millenniums he had tried fighting back the little antics his leader routinely humiliated him with, but those efforts had been just useless as they were self-defeating.

"You are a fool, Megatron!" the Seeker half yelled, his voice tipping proportionately to his anger. "Can't you see how infamously detestable this situation is? If you want energy from this country we should just take it! Since when does the Decepticon Empire shake hands with microbes?"

"Since those microbes will be the source of countless energy resources, not to mention the perfect way to keep the Autobots away."

"You shouldn't trust in that, _Mighty Megatron_." As always, Starscream emphasized certain words to highlight his sarcasm. "Human politics behave erratically. If the Autobots and their human allies decide to intervene, they will."

"And it's precisely because of their politics I'm certain we won't be disturbed," Megatron quickly answered. "Prime won't dare lift a finger if it implies the risk of an international conflict. As long as we stay here with the total consent of these humans, any attempt against us will be considered an aggression toward this country as well. The Autobots will show their faces eventually, but when they do, this place will be so dry there won't be anything left for them to salvage."

Starscream couldn't suppress a defeated grimace. The overwhelming inferiority which possessed him every time he was forced to admit his leader had some sort of reason was something he hated more than Megatron himself.

For the first time during their whole conversation, Megatron turned his head to the left, glancing at his Second in Command.

"Spare me the annoyance of listening to your silly complaints and tell me what it is you really want, Starscream. My time is valuable and spending it with you has always been a pathetic waste."

Starscream flinched, feeling Megatron's optics fixated on him. Being so physically close to his leader always ran the risk of pain, but the Seeker had never been able to stand certain assaults on his dignity. And not even the threat of physical punishment had ever been enough to make him stay silent.

"Why did you order me to stay behind when you met the human leader?" he finally spat, anger very clear in his raspy voice.

Megatron's hard face changed into a mockery smirk. "So, that was it… _Prudence_ is one of the most valuable attributes of a soldier, among _loyalty_. You should focus your efforts on the first one, since it's obvious you will always lack of the second," was the disdainful reply, as he returned his attention back to the petroleum fields. Hook was already obsessively adjusting the energy generator he had recently invented with precision accurateness.

"Why, Megatron? I'm your Second in Command!" Starscream demanded, his temper dangerously unstable.

Megatron looked at his subordinate again. The Decepticon Commander's gaze was not menacing. Instead, there were merciful condescendence that wounded the Seeker's pride more than any violent expression or insult could have brought.

"You said it yourself, Starscream. You are my Second in Command. And the second will never be the first."

The Seeker half opened his mouth to reply but the words died somewhere in the depths of his vocalizer.

A new shadow appeared on the sand, approaching from the right side. This time, the Decepticon Commander didn't care about his lack of concern. The newcomer was not a threat.

"Attention required, Megatron," Soundwave said, standing beside his leader.

Megatron slightly nodded. "If there isn't anything else you want, Starscream, and even if there is, your departure would be very much appreciated," he said.

Starscream glared mounds of dissimulated hate at the two Decepticons.

"Coordinate my Seekers and organize surveillance. Now!" continued Megatron, raising his voice to levels that announced probabilities of violence.

"As you command," muttered Starscream with contempt as he walked away. Before leaving, a last killer glance was sent in Soundwave's direction.

Waiting until Starscream disappeared through the exotic vegetation separating King Kadar's castle from the petroleum fields, Megatron finally resumed speaking again.

"What is it, Soundwave?"

"Legal preparations are ready. Humans are waiting for your signature."

Megatron burst into laughter. "Signature? Do those humans really believe such childish graphic symbolism will guarantee we will honor our offers?"

Megatron's laughter decreased. He shook his head. "Take care of that, Soundwave. My word should be more than enough for those insects. Besides, soon I'll give them proof of the unconditional faith they must have in the Decepticons." His last words were pronounced with a high dose of malicious double sense.

"As you command, Megatron."

What was strange was that Soundwave didn't leave immediately to fulfill his orders. Megatron read through the blue communicator's silences and expressionless façade – a side benefit of being together at one another's side for so long. Appearances and preambles had never been necessary.

"What is worrying you, Soundwave?" Megatron asked then.

Soundwave didn't reply immediately. Megatron frowned, evidence that there was indeed something seriously bothering his Communications Officer. However, he didn't persist. It wasn't necessary to pressure Soundwave; he would talk when ready.

A hot gust of wind lifted the small clouds of sand suddenly through the air. Soundwave's cold gaze wasn't disturbed in the slightest, a gaze which was fixed absent-mindedly on the Constructicon's work instead.

"Disturbing mood detected," he finally said.

"Disturbing? Who?" Megatron asked suspiciously. It wasn't the words, but the attitude_. _Was the Communications Officer… confused?

"The human princess," Soundwave continued.

"What the slag are you talking about?" Irritation begun to mix with the Decepticon Commander's perplexity.

"Confusing mental waves registered. Unbalanced behavior predicted."

Megatron unfolded his arms. "Princess?"

"King Kadar's heir. Princess Adara."

Megatron frowned. Researching insignificant details of the probable descendants of his new ally had not been of any importance. Obviously, Soundwave possessed a much more vast knowledge about the issue.

"So?" Megatron asked, raising his voice. Generally, his favorite lieutenant never tried his patience, but this was fast becoming one of those extremely rare exceptions.

"Princess mentally unstable. Actions unpredictable."

An image returned suddenly to Megatron's memory banks then. A broken white head… dozens of stone pieces scattered on the floor… a pair of green organic eyes clamoring for attention. An inconsequential detail, though in its moment, had caused some sort of curiosity.

"You mean the human female?" the Decepticon Commander asked relaxing a little.

"Affirmative."

Megatron burst into laughter again, this time loudly. Even the Constructicons and the humans assisting them turned their heads, though immediately a firm Scrapper made them return to their work.

Megatron guessed the offended expression hiding behind Soundwave's face mask was what had finally managed to help control his laughter. The reluctance the Communications Officer was exhibiting toward the issue was now understandable. Yes, also Soundwave must have considered its ridiculousness.

"So, tell me Soundwave… how could the inane impulses of a flesh creature possibly hazard our plans?"

"Prognostic uncertain."

Megatron shook his head, still smirking, and affectionately palmed his lieutenant's shoulder. "Go back to your duties and don't bother me again with this kind of foolishness. I expect it from Starscream but not from you."

Soundwave nodded and made his way back to the palace. Leaving deep proof of his steps in the sand, he wondered if the right thing had been done by not mentioning the notorious fascination perceived in the human princess.

No, it was more.

It had been complete infatuation…

Focused totally on the Decepticon Supreme Commander.

* * *

Adara leaned against the huge pillows, unable to find a comfortable posture. She had moved so much within the last minutes, that the soft cloth caressing her back had a disordered collection of rumples.

Her adorned feet moved anxiously on the blankets, bare extensions of the exaltation overwhelming the rest of her body.

Adara was drawing.

Straight traces wounded frenetically the paper's white surface that was lying over her thighs – a disorganized symphony of lines anxiously trying to form a shape.

She had to see him. She hadto see him again.

_Megatron._

The door to her room opened violently. Adara didn't raise her gaze from the paper, barely noticing the heavy feet hitting the floor and stopping right beside her.

"Did you finish bowing already, father? Does your neck hurt?" she asked, starting to draw new lines on a virgin sheet of paper.

The shadow towering her announced what was coming but Adara didn't even blink. The paper and pencil fell onto the carpet when King Kadar viciously grabbed his daughter by the wrists, forcing her to stand and face him.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he roared, shaking her furiously.

The violence of his touch contrasted with the cold serenity deep in the princess's green eyes.

"What do you mean?" she innocently asked.

"Don't play your games with me, Adara! Not now!"

The princess smirked. "I'm sorry. Did I disturb your little exhibition of servile ness?"

King Kadar's brown eyes shined with rage. "Don't you realize what you could have done, stupid brat?! You could've ruined everything!"

"Ruined what? Is your alliance with Lord Megatron so fragile that the broken imitation of a statue risks it? Sometimes I wonder why people fear you so much, _daddy_."

The unstable attempt of the king to control his temper finally collapsed. His rude and small hand smacked his daughter's cheek, her fragile body falling onto the bed.

King Kadar was paralyzed, caught between the desires of wanting to keep hitting her or asking for forgiveness. There was a very thin line between rage and remorse.

Adara put her hands on the white silk blankets and glanced toward her father. The thin line of blood coming from her mouth didn't stop a smile appearing on her beautiful face.

"I would have to be born a slave to know what it is to respect you," she said, her voice cold as a tomb, no traces of irony or resentment.

Fury returned to the king but he stopped in his own tracks when he caught sight his daughter's blood, his own blood.

"Stay away! I don't want you anywhere near those machines, do you understand? They will take their energy soon and I…"

"You will have your alms of power. How worth it… You should be proud, father," she finalized for him.

The king bowed his head in defeat. There was no beating or menace able to silence his wild flower. He walked out of the room, more afraid of Adara's irony than his own brutality. The door was closed with considerably less violence than it had been opened.

Wiping her split lip with her hand, the red liquid getting in her mouth, Adara tasted her own blood before returning to her drawing. The smirk never left her lips.

_To be continued._

* * *

_A __jewel is a creature of caprices, not habits._

_(Cheap philosophy in an April's night of vodka and very bad music). _

_Reviews are always welcome :o)_


	5. Perfume of gardenias

_Author's notes: __This story had to be written. I woke up one day and it was there, somewhere inside a blurry dream. I accepted the challenge. _

_Hugs to my beta and sister KayDeeBlu. English is not my first language; without her, I would be completely lost in translation._

_Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara. No profits involved in this labor of fan fiction. Yes, ladies and gentleman, this is pure love for giant alien robots. _

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Perfume of g****ardenias**

Only a ghost can recognize another.

A fleeting telepathic signal and a thousandth of a second acknowledgement was all the communication needed between the two mechanoids created to be invisible.

One, a motionless gargoyle of winged coldness. The other, a dark vision of claws and sharp teeth that turned shadows into his territory. Both of them, allies with silence.

Laserbeak watched his sibling get lost within the marble corridors again before returning his attention to the stillness around. Staying permanently alert to record even the most insignificant aspect of his surroundings was the very purpose of the robotic condor.

Below, Ravage advanced, dodging surreal human objects made to satisfy their obsolete need for luxury. Plants, statues, paintings and soldiers alike were grazed by the Cybertronian feline, all of them ignorant to the claws that could tear them apart with one swipe, and the metallic fangs that had already tasted human blood.

But none of those foreign presences held any importance for Ravage. Specific instructions had been dictated and, unless forced to behave otherwise, killer instincts would remain under control, completely subdued under his creator's will.

So Ravage went to his master. With a certainty far superior than any instinct or premonition could give, the exact location his creator was waiting needed no directions. Ravage simply knew_._ It didn't matter that the place was foreign or that it was a human habitat strange as it was huge. The unique bond would have guided the Cassetticon toward defying every universe in the galaxy here and beyond just to reach the one who was his origin and gave him purpose.

Reencountering the night, hard paws penetrated the sand as soon as the palace was abandoned behind. Even though he had been created on an artificial planet, Earth's organic exteriors provided comfortable shelter. Predator instincts embraced the exotic confines terrestrial nature provided.

Plenty of opportunities to hunt. Plenty of opportunities to kill…

The robotic feline didn't despise the moon light. With his mission achieved and visual contact established with his destination, stealth had stopped being a priority.

* * *

King Kadar's former pride looked considerably less imposing that night, the enormous palm trees standing in the garden barely towering over the three metallic figures standing beneath them.

"Slagging unstable terrestrial weather!" Starscream spat with contempt. "I had to decrease my temperature sensors to the minimum in order to stand the fragging heat during the day and now, cold prevails!"

"Don't you have anything better else to do besides complain about the weather, Starscream? Your lame exhibition of weakness repulses me," Megatron scowled back.

"Ravage has returned," informed Soundwave, interrupting the Air Commander's acid remark to come. "Mission accomplished."

"Excellent," Megatron smirked. "Let's return to base. Starscream, assign surveillance shifts for the night and assist Soundwave in securing the energon cubes into Astrotrain and Blast Off."

Ravage trotted toward Soundwave and then jumped into the air, transforming into his alt mode. The Decepticon Communications Officer opened his pectoral compartment, receiving his creation with natural ease before taking off into the air.

Starscream was about to follow Soundwave, who had already started his flight toward the petroleum fields, when suddenly he stopped.

"What is that?" the Seeker asked, narrowing his optics.

"What?" Megatron replied suspiciously.

Starscream remained motionless. Increased sensitivity from his olfactory sensors analyzed the information his CPU was receiving.

"That smell…"

Megatron stared sternly at his Second in Command. "What do you care about a simple smell? Go and fulfill my order!"

"It's not my fault your olfactory sensors are inferior, Megatron. This scent wasn't here astro seconds ago. According to my data banks, it belongs to a vegetal form of life."

"Look around you, Starscream! What kind of smell did you expect? What the slag else is there but vegetal life?" Megatron growled, violently shaking the palm tree rooted next to him. Its fruits fell to the sand, emphasizing the crescent impatience of the Decepticon Commander.

Starscream shook his head, his scientific interest awakened. "It's not that. There's something else, a chemical alteration…I would have to analyze its essence to know for sure…"

Megatron's brutal hand closed around the Seeker's throat, abruptly stopping his speech.

Terrible red optics narrowed in on the Air Commander's scared face. "Your non requested analysis about stupid terrestrial odors lacks any interest to me! I gave you an order and I demand you fulfill it immediately. GO!" Megatron scowled, violently shoving Starscream aside.

The Seeker's back impacted with the huge palm behind. Disrespectful coconuts fell mercilessly over head, making him cringe.

Megatron burst into cruel laughter. "I'll never understand why you try so hard to exhibit how pathetic you are!"

Despite his mockery, Megatron's ultimatum had been clear. Quickly, Starscream scrambled to get his bearings straight, hopping into the air and flying toward the distant tower the Constructicons had built as an observation post.

Megatron shook his head. It didn't matter. No type of inflammatory discussion with his Second in Command would have been capable of changing his unusual good mood.

The day had been quite productive. Not only had a considerable amount of energy been extracted but the Constructicons were nearly finished with conditioning a huge side of the palace as a temporary Command Center as well. For the first time since his arrival on Earth, the Decepticon leader allowed himself the luxury of smiling with total satisfaction.

"Gardenias."

A soft voice took over the silence.

Twisting his head violently to the left, taken by total surprise, Megatron's glance matched the downward direction his fusion cannon was already aimed, guided by an ancient warrior's instinct.

A small and graceful figure wrapped in white cloth emerged from the shadows outlining the palm trees. Despite the darkness, two green eyes were visible, hungrily devouring the silver silhouette being generously illuminated by the moon light.

The human princess. Her attitude announced her royalty more than the luxuries adorning her.

Bewildered annoyance tumbled out. "What?" Megatron spat, fusion cannon still aimed toward the extravagant creature.

"Gardenias," she replied, coming out from the shadow and approaching the Decepticon leader, her olive face partially covered by silk. "The scent your servant was talking about is my perfume."

As she stepped closer, Megatron noticed it finally. That smell. Sweet, soft, penetrating, aggressive…

Adara removed the veil from her head, her eighteen years shinning in splendor. Shamelessly, she shook her long black hair, her eyelashes cutting the cool wind of the nocturnal desert.

Delicate features smiled, widening even more at the lethal threat staring back. Holding the white veil, Adara lifted her arm, an open challenge aimed at the mortal weapon before her.

"How many of my father's soldiers could you kill with one single shot of that?" she asked. Dainty fingers freed the silky fabric then, the wind catching it gingerly before finally landing itself over the cannon's mouth, an impossible caress trying to materialize.

"Countless," Megatron finally spoke. Shaking his fusion cannon to release the detestable garment, he put his arm down, the veil lost within the darkness.

"And have you, already? Have you killed hundreds, thousands?" Adara's voice was melodic, contrasting her every word. The complete lack of sensitivity toward the lives of her fellow humans peeked the Decepticon's curiosity.

_Unbalanced behavior predicted._

Soundwave's words returned… words he had no intention in remembering ever again.

"Have you ever watched anyone die, human?" Megatron asked, bare evilness in his voice.

Adara arranged her bracelets, her eyes never abandoning the Decepticon leader. "My name is Adara. And yes, I have. My father has executed many traitors."

Megatron folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the huge palm tree that had served in humiliating Starscream quite well.

"Do you remember the first execution you witnessed?" he continued.

"No. Soldier footsteps and rifle shots have always been a part of my childhood. They were like a mother to me. It gets boring with time, though. You, who live inside war, must know it much better than me."

Megatron stared deeply at the princess. No human before had ever showed anything else than panic and hatred. But those green eyes… fearless… challenging_… _Soundwave's analysis of the human's mental instability had to be more severe than originally perceived. What other explanation was there to be had?

"What do you know about my war?" Megatron asked carefully.

"Enough to know you are winning it. Otherwise my father would have never willingly humiliated himself in front of you. He is a monster."

Megatron smirked. "You are no fool, human."

Adara closed her eyes at the sight of his smile. Pleasure and delight filled her endlessly.

Megatron's glance toughened again. "How did you get here? I put this palace under constant surveillance. This zone is forbidden to humans."

Adara opened her eyes, her face never looking more innocent. "It pleases me to be the only one, then."

The palm tree shook ever so slightly as Megatron unfolded his arms and stepped away from the organic trunk supporting his frame.

Adara smiled, amused by his impatience. Her small hand pointed somewhere behind, gold and sapphire rings reflecting their brilliance.

"Tunnels," she said simply.

Megatron's optics followed her finger, glancing toward the darkness.

"Show me," he ordered.

Adara's smile increased as she walked toward one of the palace walls. Megatron followed, upset at the enormous flaw his security system had failed to catch. He would have to talk to Soundwave about this. Laserbeak and Buzzaw would have never missed the hidden passages inside the palace.

Adara's jeweled hand caressed the wall. Fake cement hid a perfectly disguised door. Proudly, she turned to the Decepticon leader.

"See? Subterranean tunnels connect the entire palace with the surrounding areas outside. Some of them even reach out of town. In case of an unexpected disturbance, they are very necessary. It's never happened, but my father has never distinguished himself for being an incautious man."

Bending down to one knee, Megatron proceeded to scan the passage, the human female's existence forgotten for the moment. Absolute control over those tunnels was a priority. He couldn't allow the king to have any possible escape route. The success of his entire plan depended on that.

* * *

For the first time since she remembered, arrogance and self confident assertions shivered.

Physical approximation was deliciously disturbing.

He was close.

He was _very_ close.

Her face blushing, heart accelerating violently, body temperature increasing, burning…

Everything had been under control, even in the moment she first approached him, even in the magical second in which he had spoken to her. It wasn't until that moment of exposed weakness, when truths revealed itself in devastating force, did Adara realize it.

This was not a mundane impulse. Reasons and justifications were not needed. Desire was swelling in painful proportions.

All of her short life was meaningless now. She had been born right there, in that moment, in that night of cold wind and moonlit figures, in the precise moment Megatron had gotten so close to her…

Skin and body were no more anymore, only sensations, undefined feelings that were already dominating her.

With lustful desperation, Adara's graceful stealth filled movements led her toward her destination, the one she was sure was her fate.

Megatron's arm rested beside his knelt leg joint. She held into it, a shipwrecked person in search of salvation.

Cold metal received her warmth. Her nails tried uselessly penetrating urgently the huge strong arm in an attempt of becoming part of it. The touch dragged her back to the night, to the desert. It was a return to her identity. Only then could she breathe again.

* * *

Megatron felt her warmth before her touch. Concentration still focused on the insides of the subterranean tunnels, the human princess's words were not understandable. They sounded like a moan, a plea…

The Decepticon leader turned his head toward the origin of the warmth, optics widening in absolute astonishment. Finding the flesh creature leaning on his arm was surprising as it was repulsive.

Swiftly, Megatron drew his arm back, overwhelmed by the hot sensations still caressing the spot she had touched.

Neither surprised nor annoyed by his reaction, Adara only slightly shook her head, extending a smile to levels Megatron couldn't understand.

"Virgin," she said softly. "That's what my name means. Do you know what a virgin is?"

For the first time in millenniums, Megatron was speechless. Fury and uncertainty mixed without prejudices, his mind trying to decide what to do with the insolent creature.

It wasn't her arrogance, not even her disrespectful behavior. It was the way she looked at him. There was something else inside those green eyes, something Megatron couldn't define.

Many seconds of uncomfortable silence prevailed. Megatron, still on one knee, and Adara, standing before him, the wind playing with her hair.

"Aren't you going to touch me, Megatron?" she finally said, her voice sharp and defiant.

Megatron narrowed his optics. Woman and machine continued their dueling glance, the desert being the only witness.

Her mouth was half open, her eyes savage and furious. There was no submission, only brazen challenge.

The scent arrived again. Megatron's olfactory sensors couldn't reject it. The deep and wild aroma he could give a name now.

Gardenias…

_To be continued._

* * *

_A/N: Reviews and scents are always welcome._


	6. Lambs for the slaughter

_Author's notes: I'm very grateful and overjoyed with the amazing reviews I have received for this story. I real__ly appreciate all your comments and I hope you will keep enjoying the chapters to come._

_My beta reader is extremely busy these days and I really wanted to post this chapter today, so I warn you guys: you __may find grammar mistakes in this chapter. English is not my first language, you can notice, but anyway I hope said typos won't be very annoying._

_Oh, I made a couple of illustrations for this chapter in case you want to take a look. Check my profile and click on my homepage to be directed to my dv account, or search for "Adara incubus" in deviantart. My nickname there is Taipan-Kiryu._

_OK, enough for the author's notes. Fanfiction time!_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Lambs for the slaughter**

Silence can be overwhelming thousands of feet under the marine surface.

Such condition increases when the only thing that disturbs it is a stressing and repetitive sound. Dark grey fingers tapped rhythmically on the console of the main computer of the Decepticon Nemesis Headquarters as Megatron analyzed the recording Ravage just had played.

Standing at each side of their leader's chair, keeping a respectful distance, Soundwave and Starscream awaited, both lieutenants perfectly used to the protocol.

Decisions were about to be made, and both subordinates were ready to fulfill any order their Supreme Commander gave them. It didn't matter that Soundwave was a loyal soldier and Starscream was guided by his own personal ambition; both represented a strange equilibrium that supported the heavy weight of the command chain of the Decepticon Empire. Loyalty and treason coexisted together in a bizarre but successful order.

However, that day, as the echo of the male human voice still could be heard dying against the walls, something uncommon could be perceived, something that broke previous routines of strategies and suspicions.

The scent.

Starscream noticed it, though he was sure he hadn't been the first one to do it. He glanced at the motionless figure of Ravage, who was sitting on his back paws waiting for orders after transmitting the confidential conversation between the human king and his political rival.

The robotic feline must have noticed it… Ravage had the most sensitive olfactory sensors of all Decepticons, probably of all Cybertronians. Why hadn't he showed any reaction concerning that foreign scent, then?

The answer was standing beside his creation.

Soundwave. He knew too, he had to know, but as always he was being reserved, a total enigma.

Starscream knew perfectly well that the mind hidden behind that emotionless façade never stopped working, not even during recharge. Soundwave didn't need to have superior olfactory sensors. He didn't, actually; his priorities were too focused on his mental and audio abilities. Any external factor he wasn't able to detect by himself arrived to his mind through the uninterrupted mental link established with his Cassettes, a unique telepathic bond that transcended any known method of communication.

Starscream hated that, and hated Soundwave in the process. If the Decepticon Air Commander could dominate the art of telepathy, then his fame of potential traitor would fit him. Knowledge was power, its counterpart the worst weakness in contrast.

Ignorance… all those places Starscream's optics couldn't see, all the conversations and noises his audios couldn't listen… all those closed doors that kept him away from reaching the glorious fate he had imposed to himself, some of them very dangerous to be opened.

Like that same moment.

An insignificant comment about a terrestrial smell had brought him another episode of humiliating subjection. He didn't have to waste his time in second thoughts to be sure that any addition about the same scent emanating from his leader's arm would mean a much more painful punishment.

Something had happened between Megatron and that exotic smell that had irrupted suddenly and positioned on the structure of the Decepticon Supreme Commander.

What? Starscream didn't know... Ignorance was as unbearable as the worst torture when so many things were running through his mind and there were so many empty spaces to fill.

Megatron stopped tapping the console of the computer. The signal was unmistakable: the second and the third in command were authorized to speak.

"So, leader… which measures will we take against this evident act of treason?" Starscream's raspy voice was the first one to break the silence.

"None," was the cold answer.

Starscream wasn't surprised. It wasn't rare for Megatron to not allow emotions driving him and decide for more calculated options instead. However, that didn't help to ease the instinctive rebelliousness that was part of the bare nature of the presumptuous Second in Command.

"None?!" he repeated, not as astonished as he tried to look. "This filthy human is talking about betraying us and you won't do anything about it!"

Megatron stood up from the chair and leaned his back against the console, his arms folded across his chest.

"Starscream, you better than anybody else should know that treacherous words are very far away from concrete actions. If I would give any importance to every one of your pathetic manifestations of overthrowing me, I would've destroyed you eons ago."

An irritated Starscream bit his lip components and advanced toward Megatron, his fists clenched. "Oh, really? And why haven't you?"

Megatron smirked, ignoring the threatening gesture from his Second in Command. "Because of the same reason I won't do anything against King Kadar for the moment: he doesn't mean any danger to me."

Starscream let his arms fell inert at his sides. It didn't matter how many signals his arrogance send him about his superiority above any other Cybertronian, Megatron always found a way to brutally return him back to the ground just with a bunch of words, an overwhelming power that constantly reminded the Seeker why he was second and not first in command.

"Still…" Starscream continued, his voice calming down, "the human clearly talked about treason. His conversation with the governor of the bordering country was very explicit."

Megatron increased his smirk. "I never expected the king to be comfortable with our alliance; it's too disadvantageous for him after all. We get the energy and all he has is our promise of unlimited power over his fellow organics once Earth becomes a Decepticon colony."

"A promise you have no intention to keep," complemented Starscream.

Megatron's optics narrowed with malice. "As you said in one of your rare moments of lucidity, we Decepticons don't ally with inferior creatures."

Starscream frowned. Once again, Megatron had given him a painful lesson without the need of physical violence. However, he wasn't ready to give up.

"That doesn't erase the fact the human king is plotting against us, and he precisely chose his worst enemy to scheme with. Are you going to let these flesh bags become stronger, Megatron? The Autobots are close, make no mistake about that, ready to support that alliance."

Megatron pushed himself off the console and unfolded his arms. "I clearly said we won't do anything against our human ally, but we will make sure to deliver him a message. I plan to stop that association to happen."

"The most dangerous alliances are the ones made with adversaries," Megatron continued. "That's why we must make the king understand that his enemies must remain like enemies… Soundwave, energize Ravage and make sure he will be in optimal conditions by the end of the next solar cycle. There's something else I need him to do."

"As you command, Megatron," the stoic Communications Officer replied. At his feet, Ravage's optics shone with anticipation, his predator's instincts smelling the proximity of hunting.

"Starscream, summon Skywarp immediately. These humans will need a hero," Megatron ended, his last words pronounced with exposed mockery.

Starscream hesitated but didn't dare to question Megatron's orders. Anything his leader had in mind should have at least some sort of reason.

Starscream hated that too.

* * *

Megatron sat again before the main computer of the Nemesis base, staring blankly at the Cybertronian ciphers that stated the amount of energon obtained from King Kadar's petroleum fields.

Megatron's optics were fixated on the screen, but not his mind. The statistics, already recorded in his memory banks, meant nothing but distant characters, shinning excuses to try to keep his mind away from insignificant but annoying thoughts.

Gardenias…

He was no longer indifferent to the slight scent that he could still perceive coming from his arm. He would have to wash it off, eliminate any trace of physical contact with the repugnant flesh creature.

But it wasn't the odor what was disturbing him, but the daring of a gesture that had been totally unexpected, succeeding in confusing his fury.

_Aren't you going to touch me, Megatron?_

Her words still confused him; annoying, imprudent words, aiming toward an impossible touch. Why would he want to put his hands on a disgusting human female?

He had hated himself for being speechless, totally caught off guard. Starscream was right: the heat in that arid slagging country was annoying. The thought about nights being actually cold in contrast didn't dare to cross Megatron's mind.

An awkward moment to forget… If he hadn't received Soundwave's report informing that the energon shipment was ready to be transported to Headquarters, probably he would have killed her. He would have crushed her, overcoming his natural repulsion against everything that was organic, brutally granting her capricious desire to be touched. Damping his fingers with her blood would have been as satisfactory as repulsive, one of those strange binomials he was used to deal with.

Megatron and Adara had separated in silence, their farewell in the shape of intense glances. His optics had been all harshness; apprehensive desire had been her counterattack, her profound green eyes shining with something Megatron hadn't been able to give a name to.

A slight sound behind him dragged Megatron out of his thoughts and returned him to the present. He looked over his shoulder at the Seeker who was waiting for his leader to acknowledge him.

How long had Skywarp been here? Megatron frowned. He hadn't noticed his subordinate's arrival; it was unforgivable. How could've he allowed his thoughts to focus so much in that disgusting human femme?

Megatron turned around his chair and stared at the newcomer.

"Did you summon me, Megatron?" the black Seeker asked.

"Yes. Be prepared, Skywarp. In fifteen terrestrial hours you will attack the frontier between our allies and their north's neighbors."

Skywarp's optics slightly increased their size, exposing his confusion. Weren't the Decepticons supposed not to harm the humans as long as the alliance with King Kadar lasted?

"At exactly 2219 hours, the border surveillance patrols of our human associates will receive an… unfortunate attack," Megatron continued. "I expect them to take immediate retaliation actions. You will assist them exactly at 2221 hours."

Skywarp nodded, assimilating the information in his memory banks as his leader continued speaking.

"You must not allow them to have any moment of peace. I want chaos to prevail every single astro second. Teleport uninterruptedly and shoot at will at the enemy's trenches. You must not leave a single survivor, but be sure to avoid hitting civil areas, or you would allow the Autobots to intervene. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Megatron," the Seeker replied making a military salute. He started to leave as he saw his leader dismissing him with an arm gesture.

"And Skywarp…"

The black Seeker stopped, turning to face his commander.

Megatron smirked evilly. "I won't have any objections if, during the confusion of the battle, your aiming fails and you _accidentally_ kill some of our allies… Collateral damage is always part of any battle, and this little charade won't be the exception. Those humans must feel in their filthy skin the unlimited power of a Decepticon."

Skywarp smirked as well, anticipating the amusement. "I perfectly understand, Megatron. It will be a pleasure."

Leaving behind any thought about gardenias, Megatron delighted with the victory to come. The human king and his subjects would learn they owed total obedience to the Decepticons. Inflicting pain was always a reliable education method.

* * *

Megatron looked at the distant lights the first explosions emitted. As usual, Ravage was fulfilling his orders with excellence, leaving death and destruction behind his undetectable presence.

The humans would never know what hit them, who to blame for their terminated lives and lost limbs. As long as they concerned, the culprit would be the rival country.

Megatron checked his internal chronometer. At exactly 2221, the lights increased their intensity. Skywarp had certainly made his appearance, a false savior shooting deadly gusts of redemption.

The Decepticon Commander grinned. A small arranged battle didn't lack of beauty if it implied the death of any who would dare, even if slightly, to oppose to his will.

This time he wasn't surprised when he detected the already familiar scent. Somehow the human princess had found the way to sneak into the improvised Command Center the Constructicons had made with the former Grand Hall of the palace.

"Tunnels again, I presume? You are becoming predictable, human," Megatron said without retiring his attention from the distant lights that could be seen through the huge window.

A delicate laugh confirmed the presence of the terrestrial princess.

"Does that mean you were expecting my arrival? I feel honored, Megatron. I didn't expect to have caused that kind of impression on you… not so soon, at least."

Megatron looked over his shoulder and found the pair of wild green eyes. Their daring shine hadn't decreased, but increased by provocative amusement. Their crimson counterparts answered with hardness.

"The only reason why you are here is because I haven't assigned vigilance to the tunnels you are so proud of. The days for your silly espionage games are over," Megatron coldly stated.

Adara smiled candidly, unreachable by the roughness of his voice. "Is that so? I'll have to find an alternative next time."

Megatron didn't reply. The way she was looking at him was disturbing. Despite her obvious fragility, the human princess seemed to be fearless. Humans were coward by nature; they bowed before the powerful and accepted anything imposed by brutal strength. This female was an irreverent exception.

Adara continued advancing toward him. "You offend me thinking I was spying," she said, her voice a perfect balance between softness and provocation. "I just wanted to see you again, Megatron."

Megatron stared at her suspiciously. "Which reasons could you have to want such thing?" His rough voice reverberated through the immense room, reaching the big cupola on the roof.

Adara closed her eyes, her smile curving even more. "Do you really want to know? I think you will find it quite… interesting."

The Deception leader felt again the desire to crush her. However, giving up to abrupt instincts of fury that went against his goals had never been one of his characteristics, and it wouldn't be now.

Megatron turned his back at her and stared again toward the lights over the far away dunes. The sound of distant shooting arrived freely to his audios.

"Come here and tell me what you see," he dryly ordered.

Adara approached and stood beside his leg, her eyes following Megatron's glance.

"Democracy," she simply said, after a moment of silence.

Megatron stared at her intrigued, the repugnance of having her so close momentarily dissipated.

Adara's facial features exposed sharp disdain. "They are not that different… my father and that obnoxious president. This war for our petroleum has lasted much more than my lifetime. Both are tyrants in search of the same thing. It doesn't surprise me they are enemies, though I wouldn't be surprised if they were intimate friends either."

Megatron couldn't help to feel some sort of respect for the human. Her sharpness and intelligence gave her real royalty, much more than any empty title.

She fixated her eyes on him again, her contempt grimace transforming immediately into fascination.

"And what do you see, Megatron?" she counterattacked.

Yes… definitely this human was very different from the rest of her race; Megatron didn't have to be an expert in human beings to know that.

"Hope," he replied. "Anger, domination, power, justice… you name it. What you see out there, princess, is the exercise of reason itself, the return to the natural order of things."

Adara half closed her eyes, tasting every one of his words, every one of the inflections of his voice.

"Love," she whispered.

"What?"

"You said I could name it. Isn't love the ultimate form of power and domination?"

"Love is just one of the many faces of weakness," he firmly replied.

His cold answer only made her approach even more. Although she didn't touch him this time, Megatron could feel the warmth of her body invading his leg.

"How is it for your kind… to feel an obsession so big that suddenly it becomes the purpose of your entire existence? Have you ever felt that, Megatron, an absence so painful… a presence so pleasant?"

The question was left unanswered. Metallic footsteps could be heard and the huge double doors of the new Command Center opened.

Dirge slowed his speed and notably hesitated when he noticed the presence of the human.

"What is it?" Megatron roared, not sure if he was grateful or furious for the interruption.

"Huh… Lord Megatron… the human king is requesting an urgent audience," the Conehead stammered.

"His urgency is pointless," Megatron disdainfully replied. "Tell him everything is under control and that I may have time to see him tomorrow."

Dirge made a military salute and hurried to retire.

The echo of the doors closing hadn't extinguished yet when Adara's laughter had already scattered through the whole place.

"This has to be the first time my father receives a negative for an answer. His face right now must be an amusing spectacle."

Megatron's optics narrowed as he stared at her. It wasn't common for humans to have so little loyalty toward their creators, another thing that differentiate the princess from her fellow fleshlings. That capricious part of her personality could certainly be of use to the Decepticon cause.

Megatron returned his attention outside. Distant glimpses of Skywarp's deadly attacks barely illuminated his face and Adara's as well, both insensitive to the dozens of human lives lost in the battle and to the ones that were still extinguishing just some miles away.

The slaughter couldn't be more present and distant at the same time.

Adara remained strangely silent. Later she would remember that moment as the first time she ever felt happiness.

_To be continued._

* * *

_A/N: Well, that was it for chapter 6. Did I have many grammar obscenities? I wouldn't know, but I truly hope they weren't too many._

_Update coming soon. C__hapter 7 is already written in my mind and it's my favorite so far! Please give me a review and tell me what you think._


	7. Animals of habit

_Author's notes: Thank you very much for your amazing reviews. Reading your opinions is very satisfying and encourages me to keep writing this story, not to mention they make my day. This chapter turned to be longer than I expected, so I decided to divide i__t in two._

_This chapter was beta read by Catbite, a very dear friend and great author._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Animals of habit**

Humans knew about adapting.

Practically, there was no situation the self proclaimed most intelligent inhabitants of planet Earth couldn't get used to. Their capricious history was a summary of adaptations, misery being its most recurrent element.

However, surviving and embracing adversity wasn't an exclusive human characteristic, but belonged to intelligence itself. Those created in other worlds have also flirted with civility and barbarism, having found balance in a forced routine of survival, constant fight and distrust.

They haven't been created for such purpose, but Transformers had become creatures of habits as well.

It was one of the reasons why that hot day of July, as he kept guard over one of the energy generators that have been adapted to King Kadar's petroleum fields, Thundercracker wasn't thinking precisely about the annoying weather conditions of the terrestrial desert.

A cycle spent in inactivity was too tedious, especially for a Cybertronian who was used to spend most of the time on the sky. If such a thing as claustrophobia without walls existed, the blue and grey Seeker was feeling it in that moment.

The lack of something to do was not only boring but unproductive. Thundercracker would have even preferred helping Reflector in the process of transforming petroleum into pure energon, but Starscream had made it clear no Seeker from _his_ trine would perform that kind of job and would focus exclusively in surveillance.

Thundercracker frowned when one of those insignificant human soldiers walked next to him. Being so close to the repugnant flesh creatures was annoying, especially now that humans seemed to be getting used to the constant presence of Decepticons. The fear the organics initially showed changed as days passed by, loyal to the unstoppable strength of habit.

One of the things Thundercracker learned during the war was that there was always place for absurdity, an open contradiction to organized Cybertronian logic but common place occurrence on every planet in which intelligence existed.

Just a few days had passed since the beginning of a darkly peculiar alliance, but the unnatural view of Decepticons and humans working together had become another of the regular eccentricities of that arid desert country. The association was as solid as mutual distrust could allow, but the recent attack from their northern neighbors and Skywarp's opportune intervention had managed to stabilize the general paranoia. In a place in which it was normal to see stoic soldiers and crestfallen citizens, the addition of alien robots wasn't that extraordinaire anymore.

Thundercracker folded his arms across his chest as he glanced at the energy generators the Constructicons and the Coneheads were operating. Where was Skywarp, by the way?, he thought. He should have been there, according to the shift's schedule ordered by Starscream. Talking to his wingmate would certainly make surveillance less tedious to Thundercracker.

He was about to activate his com link in order to locate the black and purple Seeker, when his radars detected a very well known energy signal. He didn't have to resort to any sophisticated localization method; his optics zoomed in and focused in a surprising image, the confirmation of any conjecture about adaptation and abrupt heroism.

Outside the petroleum fields, in the edge of the frontiers of the city, four young human females, half covered with veils, were talking to Skywarp. The Seeker was bent on one knee, one of his arms resting casually on his leg.

Thundercracker wasn't equipped with an audio system sensitive enough to listen to the distant conversation, but the clear smile on his wingmate's face indicated that whatever the flesh creatures were telling him was amusing enough to enter in the very wide classification of what Skywarp considered hilarious.

The weird exchange finished when Skywarp suddenly got up and walked away, shaking his head, his smile spreading even more through his facial components. He caught sight of Thundercracker and flied toward him in bipedal mode, shooting the four scandalous females a last amusing look.

"Hey, TC!" Skywarp cheerfully said when he descended in front of his friend.

"Shouldn't you be in surveillance duty, Warp? And what was _that_ all about?"

Skywarp looked over his shoulder toward the humans, barely perceptible in the distance. He smirked as he walked beside Thundercracker to their surveillance station.

"_That, _TC, is the proof of how irresistible I am."

Thundercracker stared at his wingmate in disbelief. "Is that so? And since when do you have such a peculiar group of… followers?"

"It all started two solar cycles ago… Slag, TC, you're not going to believe what those flesh females just told me!"

"I don't know if I want to keep listening."

"This will crack you up. First, they wanted me to say their names…"

"Their names?" Thundercracker asked frowning.

"Yes, they said they wanted to listen them from my voice, seems it's some sort of fetish. One of them repeated frenetically: _Say my name, say my name! _Then they asked me if I was aware of how sexy I was."

"_Sexy?_"

"Would you stop repeating everything I say like a drone? I haven't told you the best part yet. Well, after that they wanted to know if Transformers had _intimate_ parts and if I could show them…"

"Disgusting! Did they really ask you that?"

"You can bet your aft they did, though they used words I didn't find in my memory banks. Their language is very colorful when it turns to physical pleasure."

"I presume you are not considering acceding to their petition."

Skywarp smirked mischievously. "Actually…"

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Come on, TC! I haven't been with a femme in ages!"

"Warp, we are talking about _humans_."

"So?"

"This is insane! These creatures are organic, not to mention far smaller than you. Some things just don't mix."

"Well, technically is not impossible…"

"Would you shut up? You are so geeky sometimes… Now I'm sure I don't want to keep listening to this madness."

"Bah, you are no fun."

"And you don't seem to use your reasoning processors very often. You should know we must not have any kind of personal contact with these fleshlings. If Megatron finds out…"

"Megatron only said we should avoid stepping on them. Besides, it was him who threw me to public adoration when he commanded me to take care of that mission, right?"

"Still…"

A close group of soldiers cheered the black Seeker when they caught sight of him. Skywarp shoot Thundercracker a look of superiority.

"See? These flesh bags _love_ me. If I would have known I only had to vaporize a couple of hundred of them to become their hero, I would've done it long ago. They couldn't be more stupid."

Thundercracker shook his head. "That was useless brutality if you ask me."

"Megatron knows what he is doing. What do you care about humans, after all?"

"I don't. I just find the recent carnage totally unnecessary."

Skywarp burst in laughter. "Carnage? I just fried some of them, no big deal. I shoot them, they worship me. Isn't that the way logic works in this fragging planet?"

The silence and the severe face of Thundercracker spoke by themselves. Skywarp roughly elbowed his arm. "Come on, TC, don't be such a susceptible slagger. I suppose you are not interested, but one of those girls said you are cute."

"_Cute?_"

"Affirmative, and that wasn't the only thing she said…"

"You are right. I'm not interested."

Both Seekers arrived to their destination and prepared to continue the monotonous task of surveillance. Skywarp leaned on one of the walls of the vigilance tower as the divided form of Reflector continued filling energon cubes. Thundercracker remained standing, his arms folded across his chest, looking absent-mindedly at the desert's dunes.

"Warp…" he eventually broke the silence.

"What?"

"Just out of curiosity… which other things did that human say about me?"

Skywarp smirked evilly. He loved to be right.

* * *

Starscream walked into the temporary Command Center that used to be the Grand Hall of King Kadar's castle. Even though he was used to sudden changes, the Decepticon Air Commander frowned when he caught sight of the adaptations the Constructicons had made to the huge room in less than one solar cycle.

As always, Starscream ignored the presence of Soundwave, who was, also as always, attached to the main computer working in Primus knows what, and headed toward his main objective.

"You certainly have a thing for thrones, don't you, _glorious leader_?" the Seeker ironically said, watching with envy the imposing seat that supported the structure of his Commander.

"I assume you like it. Too bad it's so out of your reach."

Starscream didn't disguise a grimace of contempt. Megatron wasn't usually ostentatious, but had an instinctive need to prove his greatness; a natural behavior, considering the low social origins of the former gladiator. Despite of how gratifying would have been to mention something about the matter, Starscream decided it would be wiser to avoid infuriating his leader. Megatron was very sensitive concerning certain issues.

"I know how to wait, Megatron," he said instead. "What's this all about?"

"Since we are staying for some time in this country, I thought some upgrades to our surroundings would be necessary."

"Upgrades? I understand you need this throne to satisfy your exaggerated ego, but what about _that_?" the Air Commander continued, pointing his finger toward the bottom of the room, where there had once been a wall.

"Isn't it obvious? More space is required for the Constructicons to build adequate facilities for our human hosts."

"I'm afraid I'm not following you…"

"It doesn't surprise me. Thinking was never your forte."

Starscream frowned as he glanced again at the adjacent space between the broken wall in which a big amount of human objects and furniture were organized without any particular order.

"Now that you established my unworthiness, would you mind being a little more specific, leader? Why did you order me to come?"

Megatron smirked. "Watch and learn, Starscream. Time has come to deal with treason. Changes are about to happen. We still have a big amount of energy to extract in this country, and under no circumstance I will allow any of this human king's pathetic plots become an obstacle."

"You mean…"

"I'm saying I won't forgive any attempt against the Decepticon Empire."

Starscream's smirk rivaled his Commander's. "I like where you are heading to."

"Seems our little charade from two cycles ago made the Autobots show their faces. You disappoint me, Starscream. I would have expected you to confirm me the presence of Prime in the northern country. I had to find out by other ways."

"You ordered me to keep my troops out of their aerial space! How could I've known…?"

"Silence! I'm tired of your excuses! I relish the day in which I _don't _have to correct the failures of my subordinates, especially yours."

Starscream remained silent and bowed his head. Indignation flew freely through his processor, along with that hateful inferiority complex he felt every time Megatron pointed to even the shadow of his mistakes.

Apparently satisfied with his Second in Command's reaction, the fulminating glare of Megatron returned to its habitual coldness.

"Take your position, Starscream, and keep your vocalizer shut. As I said, you may learn something today."

Starscream nodded in silence and placed himself on the right side of Megatron's throne, waiting for anything his leader had in mind to happen.

"Soundwave."

The Communications Officer stopped typing on the computer and stared immediately at Megatron.

"Tell Rumble to let the human in," the Decepticon leader continued.

"As you command, Megatron," was the monotonic response.

Soundwave sent a telepathic message to the Cassetticon and stood at Megatron's left side, the Decepticon High Command ready to correct any abnormality.

Just a few nanoklicks passed before hurried steps could be heard on the marble floor outside the Command Center. The huge double doors opened and King Kadar entered, followed by a dozen of his most trustful generals.

Megatron smirked. The presence of the High Command of the King was an unexpected but welcomed advantage.

"Ah, my illustrious ally, what an honor to meet you again!" Megatron said, irony clearly exposed in his voice.

"L-lord Megatron…" the king stammered, unable to hide the trembling in his fat legs.

"I hope you will excuse the lack of proper seats for the ones of your kind. As you can see, the remodeling of our Command Center is still in progress," Megatron continued.

"I-it's alright, Lord Megatron… I… I really need to talk to you about the attack we suffered two days ago…"

Megatron raised his hand from the arm supports of his throne and gestured with disdain. "You mean the pathetic attempt of your enemies to invade the sovereignty of _our _country? I told you we would protect you and I honored my word. Your enemies and their Autobot allies won't penetrate your frontiers as long as we stay here. Your gratefulness is unnecessary."

King Kadar bit his lips. Obviously he could see the irony and falsity behind Megatron's words, but he wasn't in a position to make demands. Suddenly, his priorities changed; only the preservation of his life mattered now. He wasn't sure about how much that metallic monster knew about the secret communication he had had with the ones Megatron called "enemies", but King Kadar knew only one thing for sure: he didn't want to find out.

Crimson optics focused roughly on the pathetic organic creature that could barely control the shivering of his body. Megatron could not have been any more disgusted than he already was.

"I'm glad you are here, King Kadar," the Decepticon Supreme Commander continued. "There are issues we need to discuss, issues that have not only been brought to my attention, but have also deeply disappointed me."

King Kadar suddenly felt that the floor seemed to crumble under his feet; the danger signals appearing in the shape of cold sweat and a heart that threatened to beat even more frantically inside his chest.

"I… I-I'm afraid I d-don't know what you are talking about, Lord Megatron…"

The deadly tranquility emanating from the Decepticon leader stabbed daggers of terror in the king. Only pure evilness shone in those artificial red optics. For the first time in the life of the human dictator, absolute fear was a painful reality.

"I will only say this once, human. There are very few things I detest more than listening lies. If you play the game of treachery with me you will lose, make no mistake about that. Facing the consequences of your actions is no longer your decision."

"L-lord Megatron, p-please…"

The ironic smile on Megatron's face suddenly vanished; a rough and infinitely cruel expression appeared instead. A minute of tense silence went by, an eternity of painful seconds in which King Kadar wished more than anything in the world to be able to disappear from the face of Earth.

"Summon your daughter."

Megatron's voice was as clear as powerful. No human ears or Cybertronian audios in the room missed his words. Even the walls and the cupola on the roof kept reverberating the dying sound waves of the Decepticon Commander's order.

"W-what…?" the king stammered in total shock.

"Your daughter, the princess. Send for her," Megatron repeated.

"B-b-but… why… what…?"

Megatron's hands brutally hit the arm supports of his throne, making the king and all his generals step back in fear.

"My orders were clear and I don't plan to repeat them! Summon your daughter now!!" This time, Megatron's voice was a growl of anger.

The pale shadow of a tyrant monarch shivered as he looked over his shoulder and made a gesture toward one of his generals. The man made a quick military salute and ran toward the double doors.

The king returned his glance to the imposing figure in front of him, terror naked in his opaque organic eyes. This time, the shivering of his body was extremely perceptible. The human had lost all control over himself.

Megatron smirked. There were few things he enjoyed as much as his enemies' fear. Defeating his rivals' morale was almost as gratifying as extinguishing their spark with his bare hands.

There were some things not even millions of years of war could force a mech to make a meaningless habit. The pleasure of destruction was one of them.

_To be continued._

* * *

_Nice cliffhanger, huh?_

_Next: Adara enters the game. _

_This story is getting darker, so I'm forced to change the rating to M for the rest of this fic. Please take that in consideration when you search for updates. Thanks for reading and please let me know your opinions. _

_If you detected insanities in this chapter, I blame the heat. I'm not in the desert, but I feel like if I were._


	8. Apologies for the Devil

_Author's notes: Thank you guys for the amazing reviews. I'm very happy you are reading and enjoying this story. Sorry for taking some time to udpate but my life has been a roller coaster lately. _

_Big hugs to Catbite who beta read this chapter. __Gracias guey, hiciste un gran trabajo._

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**Apologies for the Devil**

There is something fascinating about nightmares. A surreal dominion of anguish, the never ceasing seesaw which creates a masquerade for reality; universes devastated by multiple catharses.

There is no nightmare not anchored as well as isolated from tangible life. Not even the drastic return to the conscious world exorcizes fear; traces of cold sweat and desperate panting barely witness the real horror of a bad dream. A single instance turns into reality, perpetuating terror and fear; a vicious circle endlessly repeating.

If there was something King Kadar was sure of when his knees hit the hard floor, it was that he wasn't having a nightmare. Sensations existed inside this irony of a bad dream. He could see colors and smell the marble beneath; he felt the chills that threatened to collapse his shivering body, while burning at the same time by a cascading fever that suddenly erupted like a supernatural reminder of the fragility of life. A bad dream would have been welcomed; King Kadar would have delighted in the temporal delirium of one of those nightmares that had assaulted him.

But at that moment, reality was the ultimate irony of his existence. He, who was hated by the powerful ones; he, who possessed the supreme source of power in a world dominated by greed; he, who had made countless heads roll in the name of the thing he had designated justice; he, who had turned an entire country into a mere extension of his own body; he, who was called a tyrant by others no less vile than himself…

How could he be this fragile?

Stripped from all power, King Kadar knew he had opened the doors to perdition all by himself; he welcomed doom without a second thought, guided only by ambition. He tasted his own blood as his teeth stabbed his lips. Blindness had made him forget the only thing which had kept him alive until that moment: distrust, the worst of his qualities and the best of his defects.

Blood… the taste brought like a painful blow the memory of the past few moments. How much time had passed since General Ghazi had gone to look for the princess? One minute? Ten years? A lifetime?

Blood from his blood, Adara was the only memory left of his deceased wife… along with being her killer as well. The princess' first cry had brought the death of a queen. Blaming her or loving her... it had become the same thing.

Supreme defeat took over the king. His forehead kissed the cold marble under his body as he totally surrendered to the metallic being before him as he would have done it with a god.

* * *

Megatron looked with infinite disdain at the human who fell on his knees before him.

How such a pathetic being could lead an entire nation escaped the comprehension of the Decepticon leader. Humans were brutally contradictory forms of life; their illogical power schemes were attempts against comprehension itself. Not even in the worst moment of excess could Cybertron have accepted a coward like King Kadar as leader.

Megatron had always delighted in his enemy's fear. Total domination before the execution of justice, _his _justice, had always been a natural aphrodisiac for his ego. But when said fear trespassed certain limits and turned into pathetic whining, Megatron's spark was invaded by repugnance; nothing could be more dangerous to the poor soul that had the misfortune of being at his mercy at such moments.

Obviously, King Kadar knew very little about Cybertronian protocol between conquerors and conquered; his fears searched for refuge in whatever his own cowardice indicated. What rule could be more universal than fear, after all?

"Please, Lord Megatron…" the king said, his forehead still on the floor and his eyes closed so strongly that he could feel pain. "Not my daughter, I beg you…"

Megatron's contempt manifestated in the grimace that appeared on his face. "Spare me your pathetic laments, human. You won't find mercy here," he cruelly said.

King Kadar opened his eyes and watched at the imposing grey robot in front of him.

"Please…" he repeated, "not her… she doesn't have anything to do with this…"

Megatron's red optics shone with sharp roughness when he spoke again. "There is no such thing as an innocent being."

"B-but why? Why her? What will you do with her?" The king's plea sounded strange and unknown to him. Panic had turned him into someone else within a matter of seconds. It was at that time that his real defeat began.

When Megatron didn't answer and said something in a strange language to the two robots at his sides, the king knew all hope was lost. It was then when his basic instinct for survival took over. Power didn't matter anymore; it was the primitive need to continue breathing which guided the human's words.

Starscream was surprised when the shivering human had the strength to raise his head and drag his body frenetically toward Megatron, only to humiliate himself again at the Decepticon's feet. Soundwave, on the other hand, witnessing the same scene with stoic coldness, looked at the human the same way he would have looked at an agonic animal locked in a cage.

"Take her…" the king whispered, his voice full of malice as well as resignation.

Megatron stopped talking to his lieutenants and glanced at the human, his curiosity suddenly awaken.

"Take her" the monarch repeated. "She's yours… a jewel… so many men want her… You won't find beauty like hers in this world… she is perfect…"

Megatron smirked evilly. He folded his arms across his chest and looked from his throne at the pathetic creature that trembled at his feet offering him the most valuable of his possessions.

"I was keeping her…" the human continued, "for somebody like you… someone as powerful as you… Please, take her…"

Megatron's laugh reverberated throughout the Command Center. Every human who could hear that laugh felt the same cold chill, a dark prelude for tragedy.

"Curious," Megatron finally spoke when he finished laughing. "First, you beg for her life and now you are giving her to me. Sometimes I wonder if your species has the slightest idea of what a contradiction really is."

King Kadar glanced at Megatron in confusion, his small and hairy hands united in an impossible plea, the name of his daughter still on his lips.

"But of course you have," Megatron continued. "Your words come from your cowardice, not from the inferiority of your mind patterns."

Tears were running free from King Kadar's eyes; his throat closed and his heart beat so hard that it hurt.

"P-please…" he managed to say. "Please, Lord Megatron… spare my life… my daughter is yours… her beauty is unique, I can assure you…"

If Megatron had reacted with violence, it would have been more benevolent than the cold glance that stabbed the terrified terrestrial monarch. The artificial red optics seemed to belong in a nightmare dominated by demons. At that moment, the king would have begun to rely on his religious beliefs, if he had any.

"What makes you think I need your authorization to, I quote you, _take _your daughter?" the Decepticon Commander said coldly.

King Kadar quickly retreated, pitifully dragging his shivering body on the cold marble floor. His eyes were close to popping out of their sockets.

Megatron continued. "Your daughter, as well as your petroleum, your country, your army and your life itself belong to me. You gave them to me when you accepted my conditions without thinking of the consequences. There is nothing worst than senseless ambition. Your greed is imperfect because it lacks logic. That is why you are weak."

The unintelligible stammering coming from the king that passed for a reply was interrupted by the sudden sound of the double doors of the Command Center opening. A cold gust of wind escorted the two delicate feet which advanced toward an unknown destiny without the smallest flicker of fear.

General Ghazi hurried to close the doors and guided the princess toward the center of the room.

Princess Adara was the perfect image of indifference. Disdainfully, her green eyes avoided looking at the generals, her own father and the two guardian robots who stared at her in distrust. Her glance was exclusive for Megatron, whose crimson optics welcomed her with evil satisfaction.

"Greetings, Princess… It's a pleasure you honor us with your presence," Megatron said, bare irony exposed in his voice.

Adara smiled provocatively and leaned forward in respectful reverence before the Decepticon leader. She seemed as if she found charade quite entertaining.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Megatron," she said, replying with a voice that would have rivaled with silk in its softness.

As an astonished King Kadar, looking on as his daughter and the Decepticon Commander exchanging familiar glances, found his terror being eclipsed by absolute confusion.

The human monarch wasn't the only one noting the dark complicity between these two very different beings. Nothing escaped the reserved analysis of Soundwave, and Starscream focused all his attention on everything hidden behind an apparently simple glance. Something unexpected would happen and the Decepticon Second in Command would turn anything into an advantage.

"Please, Princess, make yourself comfortable. You!" Megatron yelled, pointing at one of King Kadar's generals. "Bring a chair for your sovereign! Don't you dare to keep her standing!"

The general ran like a drunk toward a large hole in the wall and picked a chair from the countless human objects that were scattered all around the room. He placed the chair beside Adara, avoiding making eye contact with her.

"I hope you will excuse the simplicity of such a seat. It will only be a momentary inconvenience. It wouldn't be correct to keep royalty on their feet, would it?" Megatron continued, increasing the stricken King Kadar's humiliation, still on his knees.

Adara understood perfectly the Decepticon leader's irony. She looked at her father as she would have looked a dog who had soiled himself. For the first time in her life, a craving for power appeared consciously in the young woman's mind.

"True. Only servants spend their lives on the floor," she said, her cold eyes fixated on the unfortunate figure of her father.

Megatron smirked. He had talked with the princess only twice but he knew perfectly the way she would react in that specific situation. His plan was ready for next phase.

"I made you come, Princess, to discuss a very important matter," he stated.

"You have my entire attention, Lord Megatron," Adara responded, returning her glance to the Decepticon.

The game of complicity established between them was obscenely evident, even to the model of defeat that was prostrated on the floor.

"B-but what… what does this mean…?" King Kadar stammered.

The fine and jeweled index finger of Adara placed softly over her lips. "You shouldn't talk unless you are required to do so, father."

The lack of fear and cynical familiarity in which his daughter was behaving offended painfully the king's almost deceased pride and gave it new life.

"How dare you …?"

Adara smiled at him. "You should know that Lord Megatron and I had a couple of very interesting… encounters. I find his points of view quite fascinating."

"Whore!"

King Kadar instinctively spat the word, a final shred of pride giving a last agonic gasp.

Adara observed him with false disbelief, her cynical smile indicating the amusement his offended reaction gave her. But the answer didn't come from her, but from Megatron, who had witnessed the word exchange between father and daughter with something more than twisted amusement.

"_Whore?_ Wasn't it you, my loyal ally, who just some nano-kliks ago offered me your daughter in exchange of your pathetic life? Strange behavior for someone of your species… I'm not an expert on the matter, of course, but I thought organics tend to value paternal bonds even more than their own lives."

Megatron looked over his shoulder at his right.

"Starscream, you've studied these creatures for vorns. Are my words mistaken?"

"Certainly not, leader. Organics, especially mammals, establish strong affective bonds with their offspring."

"Then how do you explain this clear exception to the rule?"

Starscream crossed his arms across his chest and stared coldly at King Kadar with scientific curiosity before answering his leader's question. "Every species has irregularities, defective individuals that go against the order of their genetic configuration."

Apparently satisfied with the explanation from his Second in Command, Megatron returned his attention to the human at his feet.

"A defective individual, eh? You should be proud, king; your failure separates you from the rest of your fellow flesh creatures. It's curious your daughter is also one of a kind. Unfortunately for you, her reasons are vastly different from yours."

The grin of satisfaction on Adara's face became more intense and, if such a thing was possible, more cynical.

"On my planet, Cybertron," Megatron went on, "the kind of females you mentioned are called by many names, none of them insulting. Pleasure houses, you see, are fundamental parts of any society. Perhaps the problem you humans have is the double standard inherent in your language and the inability to give a name to your own weaknesses."

Megatron glanced at Adara, who felt that increasingly familiar sensation invading her body as every time the Decepticon leader fixed his optics on her.

"How does human royalty deal with treason?" he simply asked.

Adara took a moment to reply.

"There is only one way," she said.

"Would you mind doing the honors? After all, I'm only a foreigner in this country, Princess…. or should I say _Queen?_"

Once again, Adara analyzed her options. She didn't know exactly what had happened before her arrival, but she knew surely her father had broken the conditions of his agreement with Megatron. Nevertheless, that was the last thing in her mind in that moment. The sudden graze of supreme power on her shoulders was intoxicating, although not as much as the attention of Megatron focused on her. In that moment, she felt that only they both existed in the Universe; any other presence or dilemma was irrelevant. If Megatron expected to be pleased, he certainly would be, and she would hold into her new life with all the passion she had accumulated in eighteen years of luxurious confinement.

"Is there a word in your language, Megatron, for _death_?" she asked with the same subtlety she would have said a poem, suddenly disregarding the excessive respect she had been using when addressing the Decepticon Commander.

However, Megatron didn't seem to be upset with the princess' familiarity. He smirked with malice and spoke again in that strange and screechy language. He said one single word, but it sounded as devastating as an apocalypse.

Surprisingly, Adara repeated the word with unexplainable precision, as if she had known it all her life. _Death was a constant presence in her life, like a mother. _Growing up surrounded by death had its advantages.

The young female didn't say anything else. She gave her father a last disdainful look. King Kadar's mouth was trembling in agonic effort to beg.

Once again, Megatron twisted his head slightly toward his right, the movement barely perceptible. However, Starscream had been his Second in Command for millennia and knew better. It didn't matter how much hate hung between them; the Air Commander always knew what his leader expected from him.

Living up to his reputation as one of the fastest Cybertronians ever created, Starscream stepped forward and executed the sentence.

King Kadar's life ended in a breath. He barely had time to see the immense blue foot towering him when a fleeting but unbearable pain had already taken every part of his body. Life was snatched away from him in a bizarre symphony of broken bones, crushed organs and a strangled attempt to cry out. When Starscream lifted up his foot again from the reddish mass that soiled the marble of the floor, King Kadar's panic had ceased to exist.

The new queen contemplated the horrible scene before her without remorse. She had crossed the point of no return and, at the same time, justice had been served. Just as her father had sold himself for ambition, she had done the same with desire.

She stared at Megatron, hungrier than ever.

* * *

Adara forced her eyes, trying to get used to the lack of light. Even though Megatron hadn't denied her any luxury of comfort for the huge side of palace that had become her new room, she felt like a foreigner.

The same palace she knew like the palm of her hand was suddenly a stranger. Everything was so similar but also so different. Anger, having enabled her to cross the line, now allowed her to see the world through the eyes of another.

Being queen was not as marvelous as she had once dreamed. The rigid laws of her country concerning monarchy had been conveniently violated. She knew she would be queen someday, but years had separated her from that moment, not to mention the inevitable punishment of a fixed marriage.

Now that those inconveniences had been eliminated, everything turned into an enigma. But in that moment, any thought concerning the distant future lacked any importance. She was totally focused in her immediate days, in the hunger that the opening of her coccoon of caprices had left her.

She was changing too, leaving her small world of childish passions to enter something extraordinary.

Adara stopped when she reached the still open hole in the wall that separated her new accommodations from the Decepticon Command Center, which was empty.

Her steps took her to the center of that place, right beneath the big cupola on the roof. The _thing_ that had been on the floor just some hours ago had vanished, but the smell of blood still wafted to Adara's nose. That was everything left of the man who once had been her father.

Suddenly, her loneliness proved to be only an appearance. The crimson shine of two robotic optics penetrated the darkness.

"Remove your clothes, human," she heard the cold voice of Megatron saying.

Adara hesitated, not because of doubt but by the abrupt delirium that hit her almost painfully.

Slowly, savouring every moment, she took off every garment covering her body and uncovered her olive skin. Her desire had never been so savage.

When she finished she could feel Megatron's glance devouring every inch of her nudity. The marble floor under her bare feet was cold, but she couldn't have cared less. The Decepticon's figure was already perceivable within the darkness.

She heard a metallic sound. Megatron had opened _something_, a compartment in his chest.

"Come here," he harshly ordered.

Adara advanced towards the one she knew was her fate.

Yes, every frontier was about to be crossed.

_To be continued._

* * *

_There is no such thing as impossible. The road to hell is full of paradises._


	9. Goodbye blue sky

_Author's notes: Once again I want to thank all the people who is reading this story. I must admit this is the biggest challenge I've had since I started diving in the fascinating world of Transformers fanfiction, but it has also been quite entertaining to write. _

_I'm aware keeping Megatron in character in this kind of situation is very difficult, but I'm trying to respect his personality as I imagine how we would react if a character as peculiar as Adara would enter his life._

_Please keep letting me know your opinions. It's always good to know if I'm heading into the right direction or if my paths are very twisted. But then again, I never said I was the sanest person in the world ;o)_

_Thanks a lot to Catbite for beta reading this chapter and a big hug to KayDeeBlu, who has recently returned to the world of fanfiction._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Goodb****ye blue sky**

Noises announcing life could be heard from somewhere outside the window. Insects and reptiles never interrupted their nocturne symphony, oblivious to the chaos the giants around them created. Rhythmic and endless, the survival machinery of that certain miniature universe never stopped functioning; feeding and living to see another night being priorities.

But none of those thoughts even grazed the mind of the lonely figure sat on the bed.

Adara felt the unfamiliar sensation of a chill as the delicate but deep smell of the still fresh gardenias arrived to her nose.

For once, the scent was aggressive. It assaulted her as never before. Delicate white petals suddenly turned into one of so many effigies of power she always took for granted. She didn't remember the first time her father's planes had began to travel to other continents with the only purpose of bringing her favorite flowers to a sterile land.

Things were abysmally different now. The planes were still there, ready for her caprices, but there was no king to give the order. It now depended on her, on whatever role she was to play in that game which rules were just starting to be dictated.

_Princess, Queen…_

Words were meaningless. Her juvenile inexperience was not as big as to blind her. The royal title she has been forced to carry since her birth had always felt empty; now it was full of dark meanings, not necessarily unsatisfactory.

_He_ had let everything clear without the need of words. His undoubted authority, his unlimited power, his absolute dominion of everything around him… everything he touched became his property.

Listening to the nocturne sounds of the desert was quite surreal. Somehow, the terrestrial ecosystem had found the way to penetrate the metallic walls that were her home now. Two opposite worlds existing together in a fragile truce, and she was at the other side of the crystal, light-years away from the small planet of confinement and vanity she had been inhabiting until few hours ago. The weak music of her past life arrived to her senses as a late requiem for her lost childhood.

When had Megatron left?

She didn't know, couldn't have guessed it; time measures were so volatile now. She only could tell it wasn't too long ago. The thin line of blood that was draining through her leg and died in her ankle was still warm.

Adara cuddled against the white sheet covering her body. The soft touch of the delicate textile would have been pleasurable to anybody, but for who had spent all her life wrapped in silk, it was completely insignificant.

Her naked body shivered under the sheet. Her feet caressed each other over her own clothes, scattered over the floor, her thumbs grazing the drops of blood that had came from her own snatched virginity.

The memories of the past few minutes, perhaps hours, were confusing. All she had was a bizarre mixture of sensations, pain, moans…

Marble.

Marble under her hands, under her nails; her back rubbing the hard floor, its coldness never so inexistent; her long hair falling disordered over her face, clouding her glance; her eyes full of tears, her half opened mouth in the shape of something nameless. Had it been a smile, a cry of pain, of pleasure?

_Megatron..._

Memories were vague, traveling through a puzzle of sensations, oblivious to the difference between the physical and the emotional. Pain, dizziness, the cold contact of metallic fingers over her nudity, the foreign flavor entering her mouth, the unknown sound of her own moans, the two artificial red eyes fixated on her, always on her…

His glance took her to the edge of insanity. She remembered having yelled his name, begging him to never stop.

There was no place for doubts where she had no expectations. No desire, repressed or barefacedly exposed, could have prepared Adara for that night of paradise and nightmare. She had given herself to Megatron, trespassing the barriers of body and soul, disregarding the web of power and mirages weaving under all that brutal intimacy. She had given herself to him since the moment her eyes had saw him for the first time.

The frontiers of impossible had been violated; there was no place left for logic and even less for morality. That night, metal and flesh had broken all notion about their limitations.

Adara had been born again, her baptism signed by blood and pleasure.

* * *

The incipient sun rays found on the damaged window of the vehicle a perfect target for their first beams.

There was nothing unusual in an old jeep raising sand clouds as it advanced through the desert, one lonely driver on its front seat.

But observant eyes would have found strange the lack of the natural tan any inhabitant of the desert had, his skin obviously foreigner to life among the arid sand. The absence of sweat on his pallid and emotionless face would also have been suspicious, considering the abrasive heat. Of course, nothing as weird as the impeccable tuxedo he was wearing.

But the desert honored its name and no intelligent glance was present to wonder about those eccentricities.

A scorpion hurriedly retreated before the tire that almost crushed it, but that was all the reaction the arachnid had for that giant thing that nearly ended its life. Focused in getting a prey to satisfy its basic need of feeding, the scorpion didn't notice how the old jeep penetrated a rocky wall and disappeared.

* * *

Partial darkness and the fresh breeze of artificial weather welcomed the vehicle as soon as it penetrated the hologram that kept out of sight the temporal headquarters the Autobots had established in the desert. The image of the man in tuxedo also vanished.

The old and grayish jeep recovered its original green and white colors as it transformed into the bipedal form of the Autobot Hound.

"This has to be the first time a business human transits through the desert," a voice behind him said.

Hound looked over his shoulder and grinned. "I think they are called businessmen, Ironhide. I need an update of my human holograms, though. It was that, or a group of teenage girls partying."

Ironhide shook his head. "I don't want to know where you get the ideas for your holograms… Come. Prime is waiting for your report."

Both Autobots entered an improvised Command Center in which Optimus Prime, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bumblebee, Spike and an obese man dressed with a light grey thobe were waiting for them.

"I hope you had a safe return, Hound," Optimus Prime said.

"Couldn't be safer, Optimus. Those Decepticreeps didn't even notice when I rolled right under their nose cones."

"Still, you must not lower your guard for future incursions. What do you have?"

Hound's face became serious. "Our fears have been justified. Our spy has confirmed King Kadar has been murdered."

A metallic sound was heard as Sunstreaker impacted the open palm of his hand with his fist. "That means Megatron has control now. Time to kick some Decepticon scum!"

Hound shook his head. "Not yet, Sunny. Officially, sovereignty hasn't been violated. The throne's heir holds the crown now."

"Could you speak in something remotely Cybertronian, please?" Sunstreaker asked, his excited emotions suddenly contained.

"Princess Adara," Optimus Prime explained, heading toward the console of the computer behind him. He punched some keys and a half covered face appeared on the screen.

"Oh wow… she's a goddess…" Spike stammered, his mouth as open as his eyes.

"What's that thing on her face?" Bumblebee wondered.

"A veil," Spike replied. "In some regions it's common for women to cover their faces with one of those, though hers is almost transparent... She… well… I never saw a beauty like her…"

"Could you close your mouth, Spike? You're beginning to drool," Sideswipe laughed.

"And why would females cover their faces?" Bumblebee asked, his curiosity awaken.

"The habits of our culture are not the reason of your presence here, Autobot," the man dressed with the thobe spoke, fixating a very unfriendly glance on the yellow mech. "The main interest of my president and the coalition of nations my country belong to is to expel the Decepticons from this region as soon as possible."

"That is also our priority, Mr. Ambassador," Optimus Prime said.

"Then why don't we go and kick some Decepti-cans? We all know Megatron is the self proclaimed ruler of that terrestrial country now… and slag, we are just a bunch of mechano-meters away!"

"It is not that easy, Sunstreaker," Optimus continued. "As long as a legal figure of authority supports, even only for show, the Decepticon presence, Megatron will be able to continue his masquerade. If we even dare to trespass the frontiers we will be considered invaders. Just a single miscalculated step from our side can unleash a worldwide conflict. Now more than ever we must exercise caution."

"But practically all the nations of this planet support us, and we would liberate that country from a lethal threat!" the Lamborghini persisted.

"Human politics are complex. There are too many economic interests involved," Prowl reflected.

"Our main interest is the peace of this region. The distribution of the oil is completely secondary!" the Ambassador hurried to say, obviously offended, though his voice wasn't able to hide its falsity.

"Explanations are unnecessary, Mr. Ambassador. The politic organization of the Earth is not of our concern and we will always keep the most respectful distance toward it. As Autobots, it is our main duty to make the Decepticons abandon this area."

"We agree on that, Mr. Optimus Prime," the man approved.

"And we will only achieve such purpose proving the illegality of their presence," the Autobot leader continued. "Hound, are there human witnesses of King Kadar's assassination?"

"Affirmative, but no one is willing to talk. Even our spy refuses; I'm afraid he's very scared."

Optimus folded his arms across his chest. "His word wouldn't help that much, given the circumstances. Since unfortunately there was nothing we could do for the king, we must focus on his daughter. If the princess emits a proper declaration and our human ally's organization avails it, we will be able to intervene."

"Huh… Prime…"

"What is it, Hound?"

"There's something else… Our spy could be mistaken, of course, but… it seems that the princess was involved in King Kadar's death."

"Explain."

"I have no other proof than the word of a terrified human, but chances are the princess herself ordered her father's execution. Our spy affirms Megatron wasn't… let's say, directly involved."

"That is questionable, naturally," the Ambassador intervened.

Optimus Prime shook his head. "Megatron is no fool. He won't stain his hands with human blood if he has much more effective methods to reach his goals."

"What do we care about his methods?" the Ambassador asked. "King Kadar has been murdered, period. We must prove such crime was illegally committed, violating the sovereignty of our neighbor country, and thus have authorization for a military intervention."

"And proof is precisely what we will give your government and the nation's coalition supporting you. Obviously, Princess Adara is a Decepticon's hostage now. If we manage to rescue her, we will take their only warrantee of legality away from them. Prowl, secure our positions on the frontier. No need to keep ourselves hidden anymore. Megatron knows we are here and we will make sure he doesn't forget."

"Yes, Prime," Prowl diligently answered as he exited the Command Center.

"I still believe this is a waste of time… we should just go and blow those Cons, simple as that," Sunstreaker growled, talking to Sideswipe.

* * *

Megatron returned to the Nemesis base alone. For the first time since his alliance with the humans started, no escort guarded his nocturnal flight.

Not that his personal security was a priority in that moment. If his radars would have detected enemy energy signals, he would have barely noticed. Cold winds punished with ferocity the structure of the Decepticon leader as he challenged the terrestrial skies with supersonic velocity. Megatron wasn't the fastest flier, but that night his engines were in a frenetic state, almost as much as his spark.

Also for him, the memories of the past few hours were confusing, covered with mist.

Veils, repulsively soft textiles, transparent…

Images arrived to his memory banks again and again, repeating themselves with an unwanted frequency.

Olive skin, green eyes, a half opened mouth, a trembling and hungry body waiting…

_Waiting for him to possess it._

Morality had never been a main part in the Decepticon leader programming. Methods lacked of importance compared to the achievement of goals.

Having sexually possessed the human princess had been a necessary action, the ultimate expression of his power above her.

It had been nothing but a twisted idea at the beginning. Attempting any kind of intimate bond with a human was not only illogical but structurally unconceivable. But Megatron hadn't reached the rank of Supreme Commander by following the narrow limitations of what was considered possible.

The princess had never been within his original plans. Her sudden appearance and her unexpected infatuation toward him meant new possibilities to be exploited. Taking the treacherous King Kadar out of the game so soon was a risky move but successful after all. The human female would be easy to manipulate; there was no reason to think otherwise, especially after what had happened between them.

As he reached the proximity of the Nemesis base, Megatron's processor continued receiving the attack of thoughts that were fighting to emerge to the surface.

Pleasure, lust, repugnance… His intimate encounter with Adara had been blended with contradictions. Contempt toward organic life was a natural part of his personality, but he had his ambition to counterattack, his even more natural hunger for power and absolute domination.

Megatron frowned, displeased with his own thoughts, with the memories he had to disregard… Truly important circumstances required his full attention. The human princess was a necessary tool, at least for the moment. The fact that her small and delicate body had been able to actually give him pleasure was irrelevant.

The hatch of the launching tower of the Decepticon Headquarters opened to receive him. As he entered the partial darkness of the elevator that would take him to the Command Center of the base, Megatron left aside any second reflection about a game that would follow his own rules after all.

* * *

Soundwave slightly nodded in Megatron's direction as the doors of the elevator hissed open.

"Report, Soundwave."

"Energon secured in the storage units of the base. Capacity at 27 percent," the Communications Officer answered with his unique monotonic voice.

"Excellent. Contact Shockwave and tell him to begin preparations for phase 2."

"As you command, Megatron."

Megatron headed toward the wide corridor that leaded to his personal quarters and stopped under the threshold.

"Tell Scrapper to report with you at dawn. Seems that we will be spending more time than planned with our human hosts and we will need more adequate facilities. I leave everything on your hands, Soundwave."

The addressed blue mech nodded in silence. Megatron knew his most trusted lieutenant could smell the double sense behind his words, but he also knew Soundwave was as discrete as loyal.

Indeed, as Megatron disappeared through the corridor, Soundwave's visor shone in alert. He knew his leader well enough to feel something had happened that night, something that could mean alterations, but it was not his job to question his Commander's decisions… or actions.

He returned his attention to the computer console in front of him and opened a direct channel to Cybertron.

_To be continued._

* * *

_Comments, suggestions,criticism, complicities and everything alike is very welcomed._

_Sorry for the delay in this udpate, next one will be sooner; cross my heart :o)_


	10. Not a love song

"_And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say."_

_The thousand and one Arabian nights, _

_ANONYMOUS._

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Not a love song**

Some things can never become routine, even though they repeat countless times.

The arrival of the morning always had a strange effect. Natural destroyers of the night and its magic, sunrays opened new doors to wisdom. Erratic thoughts rejoined order, nocturnal pains found relief in the promise of hopes to come, entire lives woke up to fascinating and unknown universes...

Some nightmares suffered bizarre mutations.

As Adara moved her sore body out of the bed, she took a moment to smile.

The injuries spread across her body were a burning memory of the existence of the night before. Even though everything had been so brutally tangible, she still had doubts. Could everything have been a dream, an insane fantasy?

She stared at the naked figure the mirror reflected. Bruises and small reddish injuries decorated her right shoulder, her stomach, her thighs… painful trophies making their first appearance on a body that, until some hours ago, had never been touched by lust.

Her smile increased. She had always been treated like a perfect but artificial jewel. Seeing herself so human created a world of new perspectives. Her eyes had been opened.

And she had Megatron to thank. Or to blame?

Opposite concepts had never been so alike. More than ever, Adara was sure all her past life had moved around appearances. It was time for her to enter the real experience of existence, accepting the charge of suffering and pleasure life had to offer.

As she stared at her own image in the mirror for the last time that morning, she prepared to live another day.

One day at the time, just one…

* * *

Dawn was always cause for contradictory thoughts, especially for those who hadn't met day light until their arrival to a foreign and incomprehensible world.

Starscream glanced at the small reflections of light in the distance that seemed to dance under the early sunrays.

The reflections seemed to know they were being watched; they seemed to desire it. The rules of the game were finally being dictated by the second player, and obviously Megatron wasn't the only one who wanted to waste stupidity.

Reinforcing the security on the frontier would be the most reasonable action, but Starscream had no hurry in applying logic on a game board as absurd as it was chaotic. Allying with humans was not only dishonorable, but dangerous. Once again he doubted the mental stability of the one he was forced to call leader, and once again his rebellious nature guided him toward the very well known land of distrust.

Finding storms in small details was his specialty. Where other optics remained blind, his intuition penetrated, explored even the slightest details, and discovered those small omens of danger that announced catastrophes.

Others called him paranoid, obsessive, coward, vile, treacherous… Nothing that really bothered him, though. Used to his voice to be ignored, the unstable but calculating Air Commander had found the way to convert all that nonsense into advantages.

And that was precisely his next step: turning a suspicion into a weapon.

There had been something in the way Megatron and the human king's daughter looked at each other, something not to be explained with mere words. Still confused about the real nature of that implicit complicity, Starscream knew his priorities had to be unexpectedly re-ordered.

"Enjoying the view?" a deep voice said behind him.

Surprised by the sudden intrusion, Starscream looked over his shoulder and gave his best grimace of contempt as a warm welcome to the new comer.

"What's to enjoy here other than dust and heat? And even if it would be, I doubt you have the necessary sensitivity to appreciate something remotely associated to aesthetics, Astrotrain."

The Triplechanger cackled. "Perhaps… Art appreciation was created for whiners like you, after all."

"Do you have to prove how much of a brute you are every time you use your vocalizer? You wouldn't laugh if you could look at yourself."

The cold cannon of Astrotrain's ionic displacer rifle grazed Starscream's cheek with bizarre softness, making the Seeker flinch.

"Coward as usual, huh?" Astrotrain said, his weapon fixated on his target. "Speaking of vocalizers, maybe you would have a longer life if you would learn to shut yours off."

Recovered from the surprise factor, Starscream took a firm hold of Astrotrain's rifle and deviated it from his face. "Shooting me in the middle of a petroleum field? I doubt even you could be that stupid."

The Triplechanger's optics shone threateningly, but he returned his weapon to sub space.

"What were you looking at?" he asked.

Starscream pointed toward the distant reflections of light.

"What the slag is that?"

"Autobots," the Air Commander calmly replied.

"What?!" Let's blow the slaggers!" Astrotrain yelled as he stomped forward. Starscream grabbed his shoulders attempting to stop him but he was no match against the Triplechanger's superior strength.

"Why do you try so hard to prove your defective processor, Astrotrain? Back off, you dolt!"

"Let go, cowardly little worm, or I will crush you first!"

Astrotrain shoved violently the obstacle in his way. Starscream fell back onto the sand.

"Would you calm down, you idiot?! Those Autobots are beyond the frontiers of this country!" the Seeker cried.

"So?"

"Megatron clearly said not to attack them unless they cross the border."

"And since when do you follow his orders so diligently, buffoon?"

"Since I am in charge of security. If any of you slaggers do something stupid I will be the one who is blamed!"

"Another reason to attack. Shooting some Autobots _and_ making Megatron separate your head from your body… priceless!"

Starscream narrowed his optics. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. "Be aware. Megatron won't be in command forever. It wouldn't damage you to start treating me with some respect."

Astrotrain smirked. "That's what this is all about? Another of your pathetic attempts to overthrow Megatron?"

"Things change. As this little planet just proved, some leaders fall and others arise… That pathetic flesh creature I crushed won't be the only _leader_ that will fall under my foot."

There was something scary every time Starscream's voice lost its characteristic screech. It was dark… believable.

"I still think you are just showing off," Astrotrain spat with contempt.

"I don't care what you think. But I tell the truth when I tell you that soon, I will be the one you will be calling Commander."

A somber silence reigned between both Decepticons for several uncomfortable astro seconds. Hot gusts of wind lifted small sand clouds around the tall and imposing Triplechanger and the fallen but no less threatening Seeker.

"Lift me up, Astrotrain," Starscream hissed. "Start behaving like a good subordinate and I may consider you when I command the Decepticons. It doesn't matter how things are now, I'm still your superior officer."

Astrotrain smirked and extended his hand to Starscream. The Seeker grabbed it but he found himself violently shoved back to the ground, his face half buried in sand.

"As always, all you do is talk. I will believe you when I see a crown on your head. Meanwhile, you can continue kissing the ground, your eternal lover, because that's as high as you will fly… You are dismissed, _Air Commander_."

Astrotrain walked away, cackling as Starscream removed his furious self from the sand.

"I will have that crown, and it will be you who will put it on my head!!" the Seeker cried, spitting out countless particles of the disgusting mineral substance that had entered his mouth during his short stay underground.

As his fists brutally destroyed a dune, he promised himself it would be the last time his subordinates stepped over his authority. He would overthrow Megatron and crush all the ones that disrespected him. He would turn that alliance with the humans into an advantage, no matter the cost.

* * *

Megatron was surprised to find Adara waiting for him when he entered the Command Center of the castle of the deceased King Kadar. For some reason he had thought the princess would disappear from his sight, becoming one of so many objects that reflected his dominion.

"Greetings, princess. I hope your night was pleasant," he said, ironic.

Adara replied with a challenging smile. If Megatron had thought to inflict fear in her arrogant personality, he was completely wrong.

"Very. It's not necessary to say the feeling is mutual, Megatron."

The Decepticon ignored her and continued his way toward the console of the huge computer at the bottom of the room.

"I have a little confusion. Maybe you would be so kind to clarify it," he heard her voice behind.

Megatron sat before the computer and punched in the complex series of passwords that protected the access to the system that controlled everything related with the energy extraction from the petroleum fields.

"Speak fast. I'm busy," he harshly said.

Adara wasn't intimidated by his coldness. One of the things the previous night had thought her was that fear, almost a stranger in her former life, was now a complete foreigner.

"I was wondering this morning…" she stated with the sweetest voice. "Didn't you give me the title of Queen?"

"Call yourself whatever pleases you."

Adara smirked. Megatron had barely looked at her, his attention focused on the machine in front of him.

That had to be solved.

She stepped close to him, anticipating the delight of the challenge to come.

"I must say our last meeting was highly satisfactory. Can I count it will be repeated soon?" she asked.

Megatron's fingers stopped over the console of the computer. His chair turned around and the Decepticon leader faced the fragile female.

"Last night was a one-time circumstance," he dryly said.

"I see… Some sort of experiment?"

"You can call it that."

"I must assume then, you didn't enjoy it?"

"It couldn't have been more repulsive."

Adara smiled, very far away from defeat. She approached Megatron's seat and began to caress the cold metal of the base, her face a mixture of innocence and provocation.

"Funny… You didn't seem to feel repulsion last night."

"Obviously your perceptions were mistaken."

Adara stopped and leaned very close to Megatron's leg.

"I don't understand why you insist in maintaining appearances. I'm not that naïve, Megatron."

She wasn't indeed, and he knew perfectly well. Treating that human like any other regular, inferior-minded creature was just impossible. There was something too disturbing in her to be ignored. Cynicism, challenge, seduction… She moved between spines so gracefully, the insolent fleshling…

Adara uncovered her right shoulder, showing a small purplish spot.

"You weren't exactly kind last night… Are you always this rude?" she continued, softening her voice.

It was strange to see her skin again after what had happened between them. Megatron couldn't avoid remembering. Images of that same skin were recorded in his memory banks, images that denied erasure.

"Believe me, human, if I had been slightly rude you would have ceased existing the moment I put a finger on you."

"Do you think pain suits me?" she asked, still admiring her bruise.

"More than that stupid crown you are wearing on your head, yes."

"It's a tiara, made of pure gold. It represents power. Don't you use crowns in the place you are from­?"

"Crowns are for fools. Power is not a decoration or a right. You earn power with might and determination, destroying the weaknesses of others. Otherwise, it turns into bad comedy."

"I know exactly where my power resides, Megatron, and now you know too."

Her last words were pronounced with an almost brutal double sense.

"And you should know my power is far above the reach of your small organic mind, so if you value your life you better stay away from me, human."

"It's a little late for that. You forced me into you, and who am I to oppose your desires, Lord Megatron?"

Megatron brusquely got up from his seat, unable to stand one astro second more of her proximity, or her irony for the matter. A storm of unspoken words and bare desires existed within the small space between their bodies, her perfume reaching in a silent caress the metal structure of the Decepticon leader.

Some battles were fought with strange weapons, in alternative battlefields full of subtleties. Megatron hated them, but avoiding a confrontation wasn't in his nature.

"I'm beginning to get tired of your little games."

"Games? You established the rules, Megatron. Are you afraid to make your move now?"

Megatron's fury seemed to ease and the smirk on his face exposed something more than malice.

"My move, my dear princess, won't be the one you are expecting. In this game you are nothing more than a pawn, and your childish ego should do better to understand it."

Adara seconded his smirk, pleased. "So it is chess that we are playing… I like it, a deliciously aggressive game. Is dominion the prize? A pawn can become a Queen, but not the opposite."

"Your role here is to listen and obey. Now get out of here! I already lost enough time with your nonsense," Megatron spat, his voice announcing the end of his patience.

Adara bowed her head respectfully, every one of her delicate movements marked by the subtlest hypocrisy.

"As you wish, Lord Megatron… Are you aware you make anger fascinating?"

Megatron didn't reply, taken by surprise by her indescribable impudence.

His lack of reaction seemed to amuse her. "Should I expect you tonight, then?"

"As I said before, human. Last night was a one-time circumstance."

Adara laughed. "You can say what you want, but I know you will come to me. If not today, any other night. I will be waiting."

Her slim figure got lost within the shadows, the sound of her steps over the marble being the only proof of her remoteness.

Megatron returned to his post, trying to control the disorder inside his processor.

_To be continued._

* * *

_I couldn__'t resist it and I included a couple of references of the animated movie. I only watched it once because I can't stand the death of some of my favorite characters, but as far as I remember it was Astrotrain who actually crowned Starscream; please correct me if I'm wrong. And, of course, the infamous "bad comedy" phrase… cruel but priceless._

_Many hugs to my sis iratepirate for beta reading this chapter. _

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. All your coments are very appreciated._


	11. The fall of Cerberus

_In __Greek mythology__, __Cerberus__ or __Kerberos__ was the __hound__ of __Hades__, a monstrous __three-headed__ dog __with a snake for a tail and snakes down his back like a mane. Cerberus guarded the gate to __Hades__ and ensured that spirits of the dead could enter, but none could exit. In Dante's Inferno, he is described as having a human head. This symbolizes the possibility of Cerberus being more human than animal._

_From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia._

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**The fall of Cerberus**

The never discreet steps of Megatron could be heard on the marble floor during the first moments of dawn.

If there was one single terrestrial hour the Decepticon leader found somewhat enjoyable, it was dawn. Unstable, undefined between night and day, virgin…

_Virgin._

He couldn't avoid staring at the place beside the Command Center. His glance was received by the coldness of closed doors.

_Do you know what a virgin is, Megatron?_

Megatron frowned. Strong waves of anger threatened to invade his apparent exterior coldness. Taking those doors down and destroying the human female was too tempting.

But was that what he wanted, to see her body crushed, turned into a disgusting mass of blood and bones, just like her father had ended?

Megatron returned his glance to the big window ahead of him that was showing the pinkish lights that had started to illuminate the desert. Once again, the hypnotic effect of dawn worked gently on his disturbed mind, returning him to the lie that his inner peace was.

_She wasn't there._

Away from the reach of his optics, her penetrating perfume not attacking his sensors, her voice not stabbing his audios with its irreverence… But it was her eyes, especially her eyes, which were not there to challenge him, to struggle to reach that place without limits that was the pure essence of his tyranny.

Nor was her body there.

Her small, soft, repulsive organic body…

Virgin. Yes, Megatron knew what a virgin was. He had known it that surreal night in which a princess bled for him.

* * *

Megatron almost welcomed the footsteps that could be heard behind him. Disregarding the erratic and insignificant thoughts of his mind and redirecting his fury toward the interests of the Decepticon Empire was a priority.

"Report, Soundwave," he said without turning back to the newcomer.

"Units Ramjet and Dirge shot down at coordinates 42.0 N, 75.0 W, 15.0 W, 6.0 N, location known as the Sargasso Sea," the cold and monotonic voice replied back.

Megatron narrowed his optics during the brief astro second that he always took to control his anger every time circumstances or the incompetence of his soldiers resulted in the failure of his plans.

"When did it happen?" he rasped.

"Half breem ago. Thrust reports Autobot ambush."

"Where is Thrust?"

"Back at headquarters."

"What about the others?"

"Ramjet was almost terminated and Dirge is missing. Reparation and search labours have already been initiated."

Megatron kept his glance fixated on the every-second-clearer desert outside the window. "What a nerve Prime has… attacking us so close to our base…"

Soundwave remained silent, waiting for the orders he knew were coming. With the same coldness with which he had announced the almost lethal attack on his comrades in arms, he prepared himself to fulfill any instruction Megatron dictated. It would be a logical order, of that he had no doubt, and the best course of action. Soundwave was certain about Megatron's leadership, despite the altered mental state he had perceived in his Commander's mind without the need to penetrate his thoughts.

That was the only thing disturbing the unbreakable stoic façade of the Decepticon Communications Officer in that moment, nevertheless. Megatron had always been impossible to read. The strength of his personality and the absolute dominion of his emotions made entering his mind a nightmare for any telepath. To actually feel his mental barriers become momentarily unstable was as new as it was confusing, but Soundwave disregarded any doubts. They were not relevant for the Decepticon cause and it wasn't his place to find out the reasons.

Megatron stared firmly at his lieutenant. Soundwave knew, of course he had to know. What was next? Thanking his discretion? Punishing his knowledge?

Shame was an unknown feeling for the Decepticon leader, and it would remain that way.

"Make sure to find Dirge and reschedule the mission for tonight. We can't proceed with the next phase of our plan without that shipment of Cybertronium. Failure is not an option. If Prime wants a fight, a fight he shall have. Notify the Triplechangers to be ready; they will be the escort. I will personally supervise the mission."

"As you command, Megatron."

Soundwave was about to leave, but he stopped. He knew Megatron too well to know when there was something else left to say.

"The humans…" Megatron spoke again, his voice noticeably more calmed than his previous words.

Soundwave stared at him, waiting.

"Did you take care of their government system?" the Decepticon leader continued.

"Affirmative. Council of Ministers under control. Only two members resisted."

Megatron smirked. "And I suppose you sent Ravage on a little hunting trip."

Soundwave nodded. "Both humans were terminated. Discretion maintained."

"Good, very good Soundwave. That Council was nothing more than a joke under our deceased ally's reign after all, and it's my intention to keep it that way. It will continue to be a mirage, just as the legit heir of the throne. The absurd mechanisms of the weak web of appearances that human politics is reminds me of Cybertron before the war. Disgusting."

Soundwave agreed internally, trying to ignore the different inflexion in Megatron's voice when he had fleetingly mentioned the human princess.

Fleeting was also the glance Megatron passed over the closed doors beside the Command Center.

"Soundwave."

"Yes, Megatron?"

"Prepare everything for tonight, and make sure Thrust gets punished for abandoning his wingmates."

"As you command."

This time there was nothing left to say. There were things Megatron would never speak of.

Soundwave nodded one last time and went out of the room.

Despite his anger, Megatron couldn't avoid feeling some sort of gratitude toward his Communications Officer. Soundwave knew better, that was a big truth, but his discretion was as remarkable as his loyalty.

* * *

"Going somewhere, Astrogeek?"

The voice was seconded by battle cries coming from the sky. Five planes in combat formation broke the tranquility of the night with their engines.

Disappointed by the failure of his initial taunt, Air Raid changed verbal aggression for physical. Two heat-seeking missiles made their way toward the Decepticon space shuttle, and they would have caused great damage if they hadn't been destroyed by very accurate laser shots that came from somewhere within the clouds.

"Attacking the rearguard, Aerialbots? Nice to see you are upgrading your tactics," growled Blitzwing as he charged at full speed toward Air Raid and Slingshot.

Both Aerialbots avoided the assault and counterattacked with erratic doses of laser fire that barely grazed the jet fighter.

A powerful blast that could only come from a fusion cannon broke the ordered formation of the flying Autobots. Fireflight began to fall toward the ocean, leaving a dark trace of smoke behind.

"They have dispersed! Decepticons, terminate them!" Megatron shouted as he emerged from the black waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

Beside him, Octane erupted from the sea also, transformed in his Boeing 767 jet mode, flying upward in a straight line and ignoring the immediate attack of Skydive. "Salt-water is bad for my paintjob. You will pay for this with pain, Autobots!" he said as he headed toward the dark clouds.

"Aerialbots, reunite and transform into Superioaaarrrggghh!!"

Silverbolt couldn't finish. Fierce and strong arms came from above and brutally embraced him. One of the things every Aerialbot knew was that close combat with Astrotrain had to be avoided by all means.

Taking advantage of the momentary surprise factor, Megatron and Blitzwing shot point blank against the three Aerialbots that were still flying.

Silverbolt forced his engines but couldn't get rid of Astrotrain's lethal hug; the Triplechanger laughing maniacally as he quickly gained altitude.

"So you are afraid of heights, Autobot? How embarrassing for you. I don't know how you even dare to call yourself a flier."

The Aerialbot leader continued struggling but all resistance was useless. Now the battle was inner. He had to keep his panic under control, trying to forget the fact that every astro second the distance between him and the marine surface increased drastically.

Astrotrain cackled evilly. "Looking straight ahead? No! Look down, always look down! At least die like a flier, you cowardly pile of reject parts."

Despite his fears, Silverbolt directed his optic sensors downward. Many mecano meters below, the battle continued. Air Raid, Skydive and Slingshot shared fire and aerial acrobatics with Megatron and Blitzwing. Neither Fireflight nor Octane were anywhere to be seen.

His own panic didn't stop Silverbolt from seeing clearly the Decepticons' strategy. Having such a high point of view had some advantages.

"Be careful, they are going to aaaarrrghh!!" he cried as he listened to the very disagreeable noise of his nose cone being crushed under Astrotrain's pressure.

The warning didn't arrive below, eclipsed by the sounds of the combat and the euphoria that was deaf to any attempt of communication. Suddenly Megatron retreated and Blitzwing started to fly in circles, allowing the three Aerialbots to return to an organized formation.

Hell came from above. Octane emerged from his nocturnal camouflage and bathed the enemy trine with an oily liquid.

"Eeeewww, the bastard just lubricated on us!" Slingshot cried, making use of his very wide vocabulary of human insults.

"No, it's worst than that! They are gonna…" Skydive yelled back.

Once again, a warning was suddenly interrupted by pain, silenced this time by Megatron's fusion cannon. It only took a low intensity blast for the Aerialbots to burn, the fuel sprinkled by Octane turning into a true hell.

Megatron savoured the cries of agony and the always-welcomed spectacle of the enemy falling.

But his delight was short. Blinded by victory, he didn't detect on time the big energy signal until it was over him. A gigantic arm impacted him and returned him with excessive brutality to the ocean.

The marine surface received the Decepticon leader with rough caress. As in every expression of terrestrial nature, there was no place for considerations in that frozen sea. As his body was absorbed more and more by the depth of the Atlantic Ocean, Megatron could see through the water the forms of the three Triplechangers shooting frenetically and uselessly against Omega Supreme.

Among the chaos and amazingly intact, Thrust emerged from his hiding spot and crossed the sky at supersonic speed, his hunger for vindication clear.

An escape redeeming another one… just one of the many ironies of war.

* * *

With his circuits still protesting for their long contact with salt-water and the wound on his left side aching painfully, Megatron challenged the resistance of the lustrous marble floor of the palace's entrance.

He was furious.

However, the targets of his anger weren't clear. Eternal hate toward the Autobots, toward failure… Thrust had managed to reach the meeting point with his Cybertronium charge intact, but that was no victory.

Megatron arrived to the Command Center and looked at the big window. Dawn was still distant, so too its strange tranquilizing effects. Artificial lights illuminated the exterior of the palace, creating hard and surreal shadows with the exotic vegetation that was everywhere.

Fake calm, apparent as always. The Decepticon leader never had a single moment of tranquility, not even one. More than ever he had the sudden need to discharge his fusion cannon against something, against someone… It took him very few astro seconds to realize the one he hated the most in that moment was himself.

Clenched fists could barely express his frustration. His glance fixated brutally over the closed doors. If they would open again or not, it would depend only on him. He hadn't started the game to lose control; absolute domination had to be restored.

So they opened. His hands pushed with no delicacy the object that separated him from his objective. The double doors surrendered before the silver figure whose red optics shone like two hells within the darkness.

Adara was there, waiting for him.

Her face was uncovered. There was nothing left to hide between them.

She saw the anger on Megatron's face, but most of all, she saw his lust.

And she wouldn't keep him waiting. She got up from the bed and slowly directed her hand toward her shoulder, beginning to expose the skin that he had made his property.

"Stop," his voice took over all the silences.

Adara's hand obeyed immediately, the tips of her fingers shivering over her anxious body.

They glanced at each other, woman and machine, both knowing the last veil had fallen in that small place that was still separating them.

Megatron stepped closer, his hands searching for the textile garments that separated his desire from the organic body that already belonged to him.

"This time I'll do it myself," he said.

Adara smiled, submissive but victorious. Delicious contradictions would open once again the doors of hell for her. Or was it paradise?

_To be continued._

* * *

_Author's notes: Lots of thanks and hugs for all the people who have been following this fic. I like to think __about this story as part of some bizarre Cybetronian version of the _Thousand and one Arabian nights_ written in an ancient data pad to be found in the very very distant future._

_Very warm hugs for__ iratepirate for beta reading what comes from my disturbed mental processor. Thanks so much s. sis!_


	12. Substitute for love

**Chapter 12**

**Substitute for love**

"Just look at them…"

Words were unnecessary. Prowl's visor had already seen beyond the small clouds of sand and was fixated on the three distant figures.

"They know we're here, the junk piles… just as we know they're there. And still, they seem not to care, the coward slags…" the same voice continued.

"And they will continue that way. You waste your time giving up to fury, Sunstreaker."

The yellow Lamborghini scowled in contempt.

"Wanna bet, Prowl? How much do you think it will take them to attack us if I send them a salute in the shape of a missile? I have Starscream in my sight."

"If you do that you would provide the Decepticons with the perfect excuse to initiate hostilities. Don't make me repent having assigned you this mission."

"Relax, man. I'm not gonna cause a… what was the name again? Oh, yes... worldwide conflict."

"Mock me as much as you want, but control your temper."

"Hey, I said I would, didn't I?"

Prowl remained in silence for some moments as he carefully followed the movements of the three Seekers in the distance, seemingly indifferent to the close presence of their enemies. There was nothing more separating both factions than sand and some human-made barricades that any Transformer could easily trespass.

"Where is Sideswipe?"

"Socializing with the humans. He should be here any minute," Sunstreaker replied as he stretched his arms.

Prowl looked over his shoulder at his companion. "If you two are not going to take this seriously, Sunstreaker…"

"Didn't you say we had to be nice with the meat bags?"

"I told you to keep them safe. Despite everything, the actions of the Decepticons and their human allies are unpredictable."

"Allies? I don't get it. Didn't that Ambassador say that the Decepticons held Princess Adara as their hostage?"

"They do, but until the alliance of human countries we are supporting says otherwise, the official answer is no."

"Frag… It's a matter of politics again, isn't it? What kind of joke is this, Prowl? Why do we have to follow rules we all know are absurd?"

"This is no joke. The situation is extremely delicate. The instability in this part of the Earth is causing a major crisis. The prices of oil have risen considerably and there is always the risk of a world war. One mistake on our part, just one, and we could unleash a conflict in which thousands of humans would get killed. Keep that in mind when you and Sideswipe guard that frontier."

"Fine, fine… But if the Decepticons are able to cause such a conflict, why don't they just go ahead and do it? I don't think world peace is among Megatron's priorities."

Prowl shook his head. "A war wouldn't be convenient to the Decepticons' needs. They still have a lot of energy to extract."

"So all we can do is stay alert…"

"For the moment, yes."

In the distance, one of the three winged figures abandoned the ground, transformed and headed toward the petroleum fields of the deceased King Kadar.

"Screamer is leaving, but he left his petro rats behind," Sunstreaker spat.

"You have your instructions, Sunstreaker. Summon Sideswipe and assume your positions," Prowl said as he imitated the action of his Decepticon counterpart, transforming and rolling away.

Sunstreaker nodded without any motivation and activated his com link, his desires to practice Jet Judo more present than ever.

* * *

Artificial eyes can go further away than the evident, their delicate circuitry allowing them to surpass the reach of any organic species.

But two red optics that had been created amongst violence disdained that morning everything they were able to see, everything they would have been able to penetrate and decipher. Olive skin covered with pearl silk and diamonds was the center of their attention in that fleeting moment they focused on the slender figure beside the window.

The wind was playing mischievously with the transparent textile covering that organic body, lifting it up and exposing segments of skin that he already considered his property.

And he knew. He knew that all that she was belonged to him now. Her soft flesh, her blood that had already dampened his fingers, her green eyes that challenged him whilst at the same time they glanced at him with so much desire… Had he subdued her, or was it the opposite way around? The mere existence of such a doubt infuriated him. Megatron hated not having control; it was perhaps the one thing he couldn't stand under any circumstances.

He hated her. He was sure he hated her, and he would have liked her to hate him as well. Making her vanish with a single shot of his fusion cannon, crushing her with one of his hands… It would have been so easy, her fragile life stopping in a single nano click, her arrogant smile being no more…

But there he was, tolerating her presence so close to him, allowing her to play her freedom game when she was nothing more than an object, his toy. Using her for his intimate pleasure caused him no ethical conflict. It was a strategy of dominance more than real lust, but then again, the flesh creature had proven to be able to actually provide him pleasure.

Keeping her alive was entirely a political matter. He had to get used to that thought, turn it into a truth. Any other reason was irrelevant, as irrelevant as the physical pleasure of an overload, sporadic and perishable. Megatron needed to believe it.

He returned his glance to the console of the computer before him. Enormous amounts of data claimed his immediate attention. Authorizations, orders, schemes… The demanding machinery of conquest left no time for rest, ever less for slacking off. He couldn't allow the vision beside the window to blur his mind, to penetrate beyond the place in his processor he had reserved for the primitive mood of lust.

The order of the universe had to be maintained.

* * *

But human senses could transcend too, the memories able to surpass any frontier.

From her comfortable spot beside the window, Adara could see the big extensions of desert in which it was impossible to find even the shadow of a tree, the aridity of the yellow sand contrasting capriciously with the exuberant vegetation of the royal palace. The sound of dogs barking arrived to her ears, the air carried the acrid smell of heat to her nose, her bare feet remembered the sensation of hot sand…

"Do you think I'm beautiful, Megatron?"

There was no response, but his silence spoke by itself. Adara learned fast; to read through his silences, his outbursts, but most of all through everything his fierce optics had to say. The way he looked at her and the hard expression of his metallic facial features expressed more than what he tried to hide. She couldn't tell why she was so fascinated by him, but it didn't matter in the end.

"Do you?" she insisted.

"What importance does physical beauty have in an universe in which the principal asset is power?" he finally replied, his attention still fixated on the screen before him.

"None, I suppose… or perhaps all. I still have a world of things to learn, Lord Megatron."

Megatron made a grimace of contempt that only increased her incipient smile.

"Still…" she continued. "I just wanted to know if you find me attractive... desirable."

"No."

"How I love your sincerity."

Megatron ignored her once again. For some minutes Adara didn't insist in trying to call his attention. Despite the fact that she was enjoying her game a lot, she had no intentions to know the limits of the Decepticon Commander's patience. Not yet, at least.

She leaned her head on the crystal of the window, her gaze lost on the distant city. For many minutes, all that could be heard was the typing of Megatron's fingers on the console and the hiss of the noon wind finding its way in. Adara closed her eyes, enjoying that small moment of peace. She would have fallen asleep so easily. She didn't need to look at Megatron to feel his presence, so far away but yet so close.

Perhaps it would rain that day.

"They are afraid," she said, more to herself than to Megatron.

He didn't answer; it was impossible to know if he had given the slightest importance to her words.

Adara didn't feel discouraged by his indifference. She was beginning to get used to it, and to appreciate it as one of the many parts of the Decepticon leader's personality that fascinated her.

"The citizens," she continued. "They're afraid. I never felt the city so empty, not even when my father ordered the killings four years ago."

Adara lifted her body a little, the transparent textile of her dress grazing the crystal that was being penetrated by sunlight.

"Just as it's happening now, all I could see back then were the streets full of soldiers."

Megatron raised his head finally. His advanced optics devoured miles and focused on the distant limits of the city. Empty, indeed. The only thing that could be seen was trash being moved by the wind.

"It's better that way," he said. "Soldiers are organized, the structure of any civilized society, even one as primitive as yours."

Adara turned over her shoulder and acknowledged him, happy to have his attention again.

"And what about the people?" she asked.

"Civilians are a necessary disturbance."

Adara looked again toward the limits of the city as if they were a ghost.

"I don't know much about civilians. I remember them for the smells the wind carried sometimes, and of course from the bowed heads of my servants. They never glance directly at my eyes."

"Not even when they die?"

Adara pushed herself off the window. Megatron had stopped his labour and was looking at her.

"You said you witnessed many executions," he continued. "Most of them civilians, I assume. Did you ever look at them at the eyes as they died?"

"No… They always had their eyes covered."

Megatron frowned. "Why?"

"One of many psychological tortures, or a way to show mercy, depends how you look at it. Denying the prisoner the vision of the moment previous to his death, the weapons that will shoot against him, the face of his killers… Personally, I think my father was afraid of the eyes of the ones he condemned. Doesn't your kind do the same thing when a prisoner is executed?"

"It would be pointless. One of the grand satisfactions of destroying an enemy is to witness the terror in his optics."

"Because it makes you feel powerful?"

Megatron denied the statement with a shake of his head. "Because it's a permanent reminder of how every battle can be the last one. Every enemy deactivated is an assassin less to worry about."

"Have you killed many?"

"Not as many as I still need."

Adara smiled and abandoned her spot on the window, bare feet meeting the sandals on the floor again.

"Would you kill me?" she said as she walked toward Megatron.

"It wouldn't require any effort to do so."

"Do it then."

Adara increased her smile with the lack of effect of her words.

"Do it… But use your hands, I want to feel your hands as I die," she repeated as she raised her arms, offering herself as a target. White sunlight shone over her macabre dance.

Megatron disdained her eccentricity. He was also getting used to her immature games. The question was how long would he be in the mood for standing them.

"You are still useful to me," he spat.

"For your personal pleasure?"

Megatron narrowed his optics dangerously. "Because of your political use."

"Ah… Well, considering the way you touched me last night, I would've thought you prefer to keep me close for other reasons, more than mere politics. How often do you lie, Megatron?"

The Decepticon leader crashed a furious fist against the computer.

"It won't be you who questions my words, human!"

"I can't help it," she cynically replied. "I'm confident you won't be very mad with me. After all, you still have very… _political_ uses for me in mind."

"I've had enough of your insolence. Retire to your lodging."

"Giving up already? I expected more from a tyrant as powerful as you. I'm a little confused, though… How does this leave the score? Being a machine, you must certainly have those things more clear than I."

"I said LEAVE. Don't taunt my patience."

"As you command," Adara nodded with fake submission. "Will I have the pleasure of your company tonight?"

"You are here to wait and serve, flesh creature. It's not your place to ask me about actions I may or may not be interested in taking."

"Which means you will come if you are in the mood. Point understood."

Megatron shot her a last killer glance before Adara decided it was wiser to disappear from his sight, prudence beating her for once in her life. She bowed her head with respect and walked away, leaving a penetrating and rageful crimson glance behind her and her closed doors.

_To be continued._

* * *

_Sorry for the delay in posting this update. I like the way this story is going so far and I didn__'t want to rush it. __Please let me know if you liked it. Big hugs to iratepirate for beta reading. Update coming soon._


	13. Misfits

_Author's notes: I like Thursdays to update. They have some complicity with fanfiction. Maybe it's just me and my addiction to stay in bed Thursday mornings. I highly recommend it._

_Anyway, enough with my rambling. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It was beta read by my dear friend eeyop1428. Thanks very much girl! Your help is really appreciated._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 13**

**The misfits**

_"Just ignore him."_

Clenched fists.

_"If you let him annoy you, you will show your weaknesses."_

Narrowed red optics.

_"Warp…"_

Skywarp finally seemed to acknowledge the words Thundercracker had transmitted through the private frequency of their com link.

_"Relax, TC, I won't do anything stupid… But it's so hard not to make that microchip moron eat one of my missiles. It couldn't be easier at such short range."_

Thundercracker didn't reply, tired of his eternal task of tranquilizing his erratic wingmate's momentums. He supposed something similar was happening to the Autobot twins, considering their current attitudes, although they certainly seemed not prone to silence.

"Hey, Decepticon!"

By instinct, Skywarp's arm cannons started to hum, announcing the energy charge that claimed to be released.

_"Warp…"_

_"Involuntary reaction. These beauties activate by themselves when I get angry, you know that. But I already told you I'm not going to blast these slaggers to pieces. Calm down."_

_"You ask too much."_

"I'm talking to you, Decepticon scum!"

"In which universe do you live in that makes you think I'm going to degrade myself by talking to you, Autobot?"

_"Enough, Warp, I told you to ignore whatever they tell you. Sideswipe is just trying to provoke you, can't you see?"_

_"Bah… I'm tired of talking through the com link. I'm closing the channel."_

_"Slag you…"_

The silent communication between both Seekers suddenly ended. Thundercracker shook his head, surprised that it had lasted more than ten astro seconds. Skywarp was the antithesis of any subtlety and preferred direct encounters, no matter if his enemies or his own allies were at the end of his fury. Unfortunately, the two Autobots who were sitting just some mecano meters away shared the same preference.

"Are you in the mood for some jet judo, Decepticon? I'm booooored…" Sideswipe continued.

"Always. Just cross the border, Autodork."

"Ha! That's what you would like, huh? Why don't you cross the border?"

"You cross it."

"No, you cross it!"

Thundercracker sighed as he folded his arms across his chest from his surveillance post. He had always considered Prowl a very logical and reserved enemy, but the Autobot Second in Command certainly had a very bizarre sense of humour. Assigning precisely those two to watch the important western border was a clear signal of insanity. It was like point blank shooting toward pure energon, and Thundercracker knew perfectly well he was the only one who had any chance to stop any incoming catastrophe. Sometimes he wished he could be less rational. Skywarp seemed to be very happy in his simple world, and those two Autobots too, for that matter.

"You cross it!"

"No, you cross it!"

Sunstreaker was strangely silent considering his psychotic temperament, but Thundercracker knew he had to remain alert, even though repugnance and boredom were saturating his spark.

It was going to be a long day. A very long day.

-----------------

_"Come on Sunny, join the fun."_

_"Fun? Kicking the lubricant out of those trash cans, that would be fun."_

_"I'm working on it."_

_"Nah… I'm not in the mood to ruin my paintjob today. __Besides, I promised Prowl we would behave."_

_"I hate it when you make promises."_

_"Same here."_

_"Who cares about promises anyway? Look, I'm about to break Skywarp. Just a little bit more and the fragger will make a mistake. Just watch…"_

_"Never mind. He has his orders too. __The 'Cons are not interested in initiating a war between these two nations, at least not yet. But they will happily do it if we make the wrong step."_

_"Eeeewww… you're beginning to sound like Prowl."_

_"Take it back, Sides, or so help me…!"_

_"Alright, alright… you sound like Optimus. Is that better?"_

_"Why you…!"_

"What's the matter, Autobot dolt? Didn't you want to play your judo slag? As always, you talk too much. Coward!"

Sideswipe interrupted the private communication with his twin and returned his attention to the enemy.

"Don't you call me coward, Decepticon scum! I'll tell you something. Why don't you teleport right here and we settle this right now? Technically you wouldn't be crossing the border…"

"Yeah, right. You Autobots must think everybody is as stupid as you are. I won't fall into your tricks, you frag face."

"Just cross the slagging border and I'll show you who is the frag face, you flying trash can!"

"You cross it!"

"No, you cross it!"

Sunstreaker and Thundercracker shook their heads at the same time, separated by a primitive barricade but united by the same need for patience. None of them would have admitted it, of course.

-----------------

Adara let her glance travel through the big metal ring as sporadic glimpses of fresh air tried to fool her skin from the abrasive heat.

The two female servants stopped fanning, the two palm leaves in their hands, when their Queen suddenly got up from her wingback chair and abandoned the comfort and shadow of her post under the awning to direct her steps toward the sand ahead. A jeweled raised hand was all both maids needed to know their sovereign didn't want to be followed.

The young Queen advancing without a retinue of servants or the protection of a platoon of soldiers was a very surreal image to see. Since their arrival, the alien robots had made sure to keep their human allies as far away from them as possible. In a matter of days, the palace and the entire country had become Decepticon territory.

Adara walked directly toward her silver objective, who was directing with concise and energetic orders the assembling of the big metallic structure that eclipsed, and literally had crushed, a huge part of the exotic foreign vegetation that surrounded the royal palace.

She was sure he wasn't aware of her closeness, but any thought of surprising him died when he addressed her, his glance still fixated on the six constructing robots that were assembling with extraordinary precision the new metallic fortress.

"I don't recall authorizing your proximity," his rough voice rasped.

"And I don't recall you prohibiting it. If you did, you would be very generous in excusing my forgetfulness."

Megatron stabbed the small creature beside him with his always harsh optics, despite he knowing perfectly well she wouldn't flinch.

"Wasn't I generous enough by allowing you to leave your lodgings?"

"Oh, you mean my confinement? Yes, extremely generous, my Lord. Freedom has a strange taste, I must say. It's not common for me to feel the sun light so directly."

"Don't make it a habit. It won't happen often as long as we stay here. Enjoy what you can from this filthy place and go back to the zone I assigned you."

"That's what I plan to do, but I wanted to see more closely this… what was the name again?"

"Space bridge."

"Space bridge, right… It's not my intention to question your technology, Megatron, but travelling from one planet to another in a matter of seconds seems impossible."

"Nothing is impossible. You humans remain in ignorance due to your limited organic minds and your superstitious beliefs. What you see before you is no miracle, but the application of reasoning over technology."

"To serve your purposes, of course."

"Logically. Otherwise, transporting all the energon we are extracting from the petroleum fields would take us several solar cycles, not to mention the constant risk of Autobot ambushes."

One of the constructing robots approached Megatron. He gave no sign in noticing Adara's presence.

"The space bridge is ready, Megatron," he said, waving his arm in a military salute.

"Excellent, Scrapper. As always, the Constructicons have served me well. Recharge for the rest of the cycle. An extra energon ration will be granted to your team."

"We live to serve you, my leader. Your generosity is highly appreciated," the green and purple robot replied as he bowed his head.

Adara waited until the six robots were gone before speaking again.

"Megatron the magnanimous… My father never gave his generals any treatment like this. He was pure tyranny. That was one of the reasons why three of them tried to assassinate him during the past ten years. They paid failure with their heads, of course."

"Your creator wasn't such a foolish man. He knew how to impose his authority through fear, but his vision was limited. He neglected his weakest point and that cost him his existence."

Adara's ironic smile rivalled Megatron's.

"True. But you can't claim yourself innocent from the matter, Megatron. You would have killed him anyway."

"Details, details. Terminating your creator has facilitated the execution of my plans. I'm satisfied with your performance."

"_My performance?"_ Adara laughed. "I'm curious… What kind of performance are you talking about exactly?"

"Beware, human. Don't test my patience."

"Which is not precisely your biggest quality, I know… It's just that last night you seemed quite… pleased, Megatron. I would like to receive some praise for the favours I provide you."

"Once again, you allow your unjustified ego to guide you into trivial directions."

"And once again, I see you apparently refuse to give any importance to what happens behind my doors. But it's alright. I have learned you are not the talkative type concerning some things."

Megatron didn't reply, ratifying each one of her words with his silence. It was surprising how much Adara had learnt about him in so little time, but still there was so much she wanted to learn from the personality of the metallic being that had snatched from her something more than her mere virginity.

She wanted more, so much more. She hungered for him and there was no limit she was willing to respect.

"I want to go," she said.

Megatron looked at her suspiciously.

"Your planet… Cybertron," she insisted. "I want to go. Will you take me there?"

His sudden laugh was able to break her insolence for once and bring her beautiful face to anger.

"What is so funny? I want to go to Cybertron! You said this space bridge can make the trip in a matter of seconds."

"And I didn't lie."

"So? Take me!"

"You have no business in Cybertron."

"But I want to go!"

"Your desires couldn't mean less to me. The space bridge was created to serve the Decepticon cause, not to satisfy personal caprices."

"Well… you are the Commander of all the Decepticons. If anybody can break the rules, that would be you."

"I could indeed, but I will not."

"But…"

"Stop insisting; you begin to annoy me. Besides, why would you want to go to Cybertron?"

Adara felt offended by the question, like as she had just been insulted.

"I want to see the place where you were born."

Megatron didn't reply, but the smirk on his face disappeared.

"Or where you were built… whatever your race calls creation," she continued.

"Your petition is lack of any logic."

"Why? Just because your cold reasoning says so? Why is it so hard for you to understand that I want to know more about you?"

"Because it's unnecessary. Your origins are irrelevant to me. The same way, mine should be to you. Don't make me repeat it again."

For a moment, it seemed that Adara was going to retort, but some sort of common sense must have been operating within her because she remained silent, although the remains of her pout returned her face to her not so distant childhood.

It was Megatron's turn to feel satisfied. Shutting the flesh creature up had proved not to be an easy task. The fleeting sensation of victory led him to a better mood.

"What's wrong with you, human? Was justice made and your vocalizer has ceased functioning? You will never see Cybertron, make no mistake about that, but I still have ways to please you. How about a little demonstration?"

Without waiting for an answer, Megatron looked over his shoulder, searching for the treacherous presence he knew was always close.

---------------

Starscream was distrustful by nature. He didn't trust in anybody and didn't expect anybody to trust him. In the same way, he treasured every suspicion and investigated it in search of advantages. He hadn't survived so many millennias precisely because of his good luck. Despite the immature and voluble behaviour he was constantly associated with, the Decepticon Aerospace Commander was more careful than anybody would have thought.

That was the reason why he didn't consider it an exaggeration to focus his attention on the image of his hated leader accompanied by the daughter of the terminated King Kadar.

Such a sight didn't surprise him, nevertheless. Since the first time he saw Megatron and Princess Adara together he had perceived their bizarre complicity. Starscream's analytic mind only needed a quick scan to fully understand the origins of a certain organic perfume. However, it was until that day at the desert in which Starscream allowed his thoughts on the matter to exceed the importance he had given them in the beginning.

Megatron would have never permitted the proximity of a human being. Why, then, was he tolerating how close that flesh creature was to him? Why was he talking to her?

What really caught Starscream's attention was the way the female looked at the Decepticon leader. The Seeker wasn't an expert in human physiognomy, but he immediately perceived she was highly interested in Megatron… _Fascinated_ would be a more appropriate adjective. The mere thought was repulsive.

Hiding behind the trunk of a huge palm tree, Starscream narrowed his optics when Megatron abruptly turned toward his location and with a simple wave of his arm made clear the order to approach. The hope that his presence remained unknown broke, announcing bad omens. However, refusing was not an option. Not in that moment, at least. Starscream knew he had to be patient until an opportunity showed itself. How much he was able to stand the waiting, however, was excluded in any calculation.

---------------

Adara frowned when she heard the heavy footsteps approaching behind her back. She didn't notice the presence of the tricolored robot until she saw him. Those machines were amazingly able to mimic in a foreign environment despite their large size.

But all thought about the matter evaporated as she recognized the newcomer. She didn't have to look at his face, neither his wings, neither the contempt on his mouth… Her shiny green eyes fixated on his right foot, the same foot that just a few days ago had snatched the life away from her father and had turned him from a tyrant into a bloody mass.

His killer… although he was no more culprit than herself. Megatron certainly knew how to move his pieces.

"Slacking off as always, aren't you Starscream?" Megatron said, enjoying with evil satisfaction the tension that immediately took over between his Second in Command and the human female. "Don't you have duties to attend?"

Starscream shot the girl a fast glance of disgust before stopping in front of his leader.

"I already finished securing the borders and assigning surveillance shifts. It's not me who is neglecting his duties, Megatron."

Adara discreetly glanced at Megatron, curious about the reaction he would have against the evident double sense in the words of his servant. She highly enjoyed the way the Decepticon leader seemed to play with his victims before destroying them.

"Perfect, then. Your large amount of spare time makes you the ideal volunteer to deliver this report to Shockwave," Megatron continued as he roughly threw a small dispositive toward the Seeker.

Starscream awkwardly caught the data pad, not expecting the sudden movement.

"What? A codified message? Why don't you transmit it yourself?"

"I could, indeed, but that would deprive Queen Adara of witnessing the wonders of interdimensional transportation. Besides, the space bridge must be tested before sending our first energon shipment."

Starscream narrowed his optics and said something in that screechy language Adara had listened to once, the same one she used to seal her father's fate.

"Where are your manners, Starscream?" Megatron smirked. "You will speak in this country's language when its sovereign is present."

Starscream clenched his fists, refusing to submit to docility. He shot Adara a dirty look, who gave him a similar response.

"I said I won't be part of the amusement of an insignificant human, no matter the rank she has in the joke of hierarchy this country has."

"Who is this one, Megatron? Your buffoon?" Adara retorted.

Megatron burst in laughter, finishing with Starscream's attempt of control.

"Beware of your words, human! In no universe will you dare talk to me like that, do you understand?!" the Seeker exploded.

"In which other way am I suppose to address a servant?"

"Who are you calling servant, you miserable fleshling?!"

"True, that was my mistake. You are not an ordinary servant, but the buffoon. Your function is to amuse Megatron. I wonder if you will be able to amuse me as well."

Starscream advanced a threatening step toward Adara but Megatron roughly grabbed his arm and pushed him backward.

"As much as I hate to stop your ridiculous attempt of self-embarrassment, Starscream, I must address priorities. Proceed to the space bridge. It needs to be tested immediately."

"But… but… are you going to allow this… _thing_ talk to me like that?!"

"The Queen will talk to you in whatever way she pleases. Don't forget we are nothing more than simple guests in her country."

Megatron's cynisism couldn't be more clear and the human certainly was enjoying the charade. That made the situation doubly humiliating for Starscream, if such a thing were possible.

"I won't tolerate this insult! I am nobody's joke or servant! And that includes you too, Megatron! I'm the Second in Comman…!"

Starscream couldn't finish. Voracious fingers closed around his neck, brutally crushing his throat's inner circuitry and paralyzing his vocalizer.

"You will obey my order and you will obey it now," Megatron spat with a voice so cold that Starscream felt the lubricant inside his body freezing.

Megatron released his prey and Starscream had to make an effort to remain standing. He wouldn't give Megatron and his human pet the satisfaction of finishing off his hurt dignity. After a moment of silence, he shot a distrutful look toward the recently built space bridge.

"Does… the space bridge have enough Cybertronium to fully operate?" he asked with a strangely husky voice for his usual high range.

"It has. Do you think I would send my Second in Command to an imminent destruction?" was the ironic answer. "Of course, as you know, failure is always a possibility. You can never predict the exact behaviour of dimensional portals. Fortunately, our technology has reduced the accident rate almost to a minimal… Almost."

Adara laughed noisily, each of her guffaws a painful stab to Starscream's pride.

"You are so generous with your servants, Megatron," she said. "Your buffoon should be thankful for having a master like you."

The irate Air Commander made one of the biggest efforts he had made in his life to avoid turning the human female into a spectacle of blood and entrails rivaling her creator's. Megatron's presence was too imposing to try anything. How big his anger would be if the human was terminated was a question that would still need to wait for an answer.

"You've already lost enough time, Starscream. Leave. I will be generous for once and activate the space bridge for you. When you arrive to Cybertron help Shockwave to be ready to receive the two thousand energon cubes I will send in twenty five breems. By the way, don't rush in coming back. Your presence is not required, even less appreciated."

Within the many teachings acquired living under Megatron's shadow, Starscream had learnt that many times maturity came by shaking hands with defeat. Continuing resistance would have been as useless as it was unworthy, a heavy weight that would finish breaking him down.

So he chose silence instead and walked toward the centre of the space bridge. As the hatch closed behind him and the always unpleasant sensation of the interdimensional journey started to drag him in a reign of dust and debris, Starscream made himself a promise.

Megatron would pay, as well as his human toy. An indescribable fate was awaiting her. When the moment would come, she would plead… she would beg Starscream to kill her, and he would wash his humiliation away with her tears and her cries of unbearable suffering.

And blood.

There would be lots of blood.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

  
_

_Thanks for reading. Please click the button below and let me know your opinions. _


	14. Losing game

_In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice._

_Marquis de Sade (French revolutionary and novelist, 1740-1814)._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 14**

**Losing game**

Deceit was a universal art.

Although on Earth, it exceeded the boundaries of any other phenomenon and acquired obscene dimensions.

The television broadcast ended and the big screen returned to the monotonous images of the surveillance cameras.

"This has to be a fragging joke, tell me it is! These meat bags certainly have a cruel sense of humour! Not that I don't appreciate it but…"

"You are less than qualified to give opinions on the matter, Sideswipe."

"But Optimus… that Pit face Decepticon attacked me first. I swear it!"

"Oh, we believe you. You have a cracked optic to prove it."

"Shut your trap hole, Huffer! Besides, I also gave him a good one…"

"Enough!" the commanding voice of Optimus Prime easily imposed over the rising discussion. "I don't care who started it. That doesn't change the consequences. Don't you realize the damage you could have caused, Sideswipe? I expected better from you."

Prowl stepped forward. "I accept my responsibility, Prime. It was me who assigned Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to the western border."

"A decision that I will never be able to understand."

"I thought I told you to shut it, Huffer," growled Sideswipe.

"This dispute finishes now. We won't degrade ourselves by fighting between us. I hope my words are clear enough."

"Yes, Prime…" a duet of voices trying to sound ashamed replied.

"If you allow me, Optimus, I don't think it's fair for Prowl to take the blame. I was in charge and I didn't do what was necessary to avoid the fight. Sides and Skywarp were insulting each other for at least three breems before the first punch was thrown."

"Sunny!"

"I'm not gonna run away from this one, Sides," Sunstreaker said, stepping closer to Optimus Prime. "So if you are going to punish someone, it has to be me."

"I appreciate your honour, Sunstreaker, but the damage is done. Fortunately, however, we didn't lose anything we can't gain back."

Huffer grimaced with contempt. "All I know is we have the human communications system to thank for all this. How is it possible that that human female dared to show up and defend the sovereignty of her country when we all know such a thing doesn't exist? Somebody please shoot me!"

Optimus Prime nodded. "Apparently, that's the way mass communication works in Earth, based on appearances."

"But that wasn't an appearance, but pure cynicism… I mean, frag it! We all know her words are Megatron's words! The Decepticons… peace ambassadors??? Please!!" Sunstreaker spat, already recovered from his recent display of humility.

"Demagogy. Seems that humans are very fond to it," Prowl calmly said.

"Are you telling me these fleshlings lie deliberately, even though everybody know they are doing so?"

Prowl nodded. "Their diplomacy certainly has a lot to do with lies, Sunstreaker. As I said before, human politics is complex."

The yellow Lamborghini discharged his frustration by violently punching his own palm. "So, Optimus? Are we going to continue our… _policy_ of folded arms?"

"Only to the eyes of the Decepticons. Megatron must be feeling very confident now, so he will lower his guard sooner or later. The moment has come for us to turn the situation to our favour. Disadvantages shall become advantages."

Sideswipe's face illuminated. Like had happened with his twin, guilt seemed to have vanished from his processor.

"It's about fragging time! Listen everybody: nobody dare to touch Skywarp! That fragging flying trash can is mine!"

Optimus Prime stared at the red Lamborghini. Very few times had his glance reflected so much disapproval.

"You must never forget, Sideswipe, that we brought our war to this planet. And the current conflict Megatron has caused in that country is still ours, no matter how many terrestrial nations are involved now. Under any circumstance I will give an order that endangers one single human life. Remember this the next time you allow your rage to dominate you."

Sideswipe bowed his head.

Apparently satisfied with his subordinate's reaction, Optimus Prime addressed his Second in Command. "We are to begin the operation immediately. Are Blaster, Jazz, Hound and Mirage ready?"

"Waiting for your orders."

"Good. In the meantime, reinforce the frontiers. The Decepticons must not suspect we are changing our strategy. Megatron will eventually make a mistake, and his circus will collapse all over him. We will make sure it happens."

The Autobots nodded. They were all aware of the game of appearances that that unstable conflict was. They also knew that, in order to win it, they would have to move that way as well… within mirages.

--------------

_History proves that the only way to eradicate barbarism is through peace and concordance._

Not without annoyance, Adara removed the miniature microphone inside her ear and shook her long hair, letting the small device fall into the submissive hands of one of her servants.

The sound of her own voice still harmonized inside her head as she questioned if more flexible intonations could have softened the stiffness of the diplomatic hypocrisy that everybody was expecting from her. Experimenting with subtlety was never an obstacle.

However, it hadn't been bad for being her first appearance on worldwide television. Until then, her country hadn't meant anything else to the world but the terrorist reign of a tyrant; a reign in which she was barely a shadow, a beautiful jewel with which her father tried to justify his so called civility.

_We are proud to be a modern and tolerant nation. Today, that we decide to extend our hand to honorable foreigners, we demand the respect of the world, the same respect that has always guided our relations with all kinds of beliefs._

And now, her power was a fallacy. It didn't matter that servants and soldiers bowed before her majesty; hers was a reign made of smoke.

_We can understand isolated incidents without damaging intentions. Mistakes, as recent events had proved, are not exclusive of the human race. But there is no way we will tolerate the invasion of our sovereignty. Anybody who dares to soil our land with violence, will be considered an enemy._

She was submissive to Megatron in body and soul. Neither in this nor any other life would she have dared to deny it.

Why, then, was she tolerating it?

Fear was not the answer.

Something was mutating inside her, something that made her natural rebelliousness and her submission a bizarre pair of siblings, something she could only give one name: Megatron.

Her master, her demon; her condemnation and yet, her paradise.

_Our country has no boundaries. By hosting visitors so different from any other, we show our impartial policy not only to this planet, but to the worlds above also. Today, I declare myself against any provocation and reiterate the disposition of my country to solve any kind of conflict through reasonable ways. I also support a fair solution to the current oil industry crisis…_

Because it was Megatron who was the only one that ever made her feel.

For the first time in her life, Adara was feeling alive.

Pain, pleasure, desire… that insatiable need of Megatron's touch, of Megatron realizing she existed; of hard metal possessing her and showing her parts of herself she never suspected existed.

She wouldn't have been able to tell with words why she was so devout to the caresses of those cold fingers. Megatron was rough, brutal, the antithesis of every kindness… She could only find explanations in her own moans, in the way she whispered that alien name as her body twisted in pleasure, in the way everything was paralyzed when he possessed her…

And yet, he had a strange softness, almost surreal; a diamond that appeared eventually, camouflaged behind cold stares. She was obsessed with that part of him. She wanted it, become its owner, become one with it. If something such as happiness existed in a universe forged by injustice, it had to be there.

--------------

Adara walked the rest of the corridor and entered the wide hall that led to the Command Center of the self-called 'honorable metallic foreigners'. That part of the castle was forbidden to humans, except for her, of course, forced Queen, decoration figure.

She passed under the two robotic condors she had seen coming out the chest of one of Megatron's lieutenants, motionless demons that guarded from the tall ceiling.

She ignored them; immune to the malevolent shine of their red eyes, just as she would have done with any of the many gargoyles her father had filled the palace with. Adara never understood his need of greatness. Her father had been a very small man indeed.

The sound of her own voice welcomed her steps. She arrived at the threshold of a huge door but didn't trespass. She leaned her face on the cold marble of the frame and looked inside, protected by the partial darkness of the Command Center's entrance.

Now it was her own face staring at her, the piece of immortality she had acquired by simply allowing her image to be captured by image recording technology. In that image, she would always be beautiful, always young, always a hypocrite…

But that wasn't her. Those pixels on the screen, the shine of those eyes that weren't hers anymore. Looking at herself had never been so sterile. At least a mirror would have returned an honest image.

Sitting on a chair before the big monitor, Megatron was also witnessing the public declaration she had given to the world concerning the situation of her country. For security reasons, the speech had been broadcasted with some minutes of delay.

Behind Megatron, with his hands behind his back and switching nervously the weight of his body from one leg to the other one, was a robot that highly resembled the buffoon Starscream, although this one had black and purple colours. For some illogical reason, he denoted immaturity and youth. How was it possible to appreciate such things in the metallic features of a mechanoid, Adara couldn't tell. But still, they were there.

The broadcast finished. Megatron punched a button and the screen darkened. Tense seconds followed. From her hiding place, Adara held her breath, certain that another facet of Megatron's personality was about to be revealed.

"Why do you think you keep functioning, Skywarp?" Megatron finally spoke, still showing his back to his subordinate and without moving an inch.

"I… huh…"

"I asked you a question. Respond!"

The black-winged Decepticon straightened his stance and placed both arms at his sides.

"Honestly… I don't know, sir," he managed to reply.

Megatron turned around his chair and faced the nervous soldier, who didn't dare to look at his Commander's optics.

"Would you say I'm merciful?" the Decepticon leader asked.

Once again, the black robot had problems answering.

"Come on, out of the protocol," Megatron continued. "Am I merciful or am I not?"

"I would say you are fair, my leader."

Megatron smirked, apparently satisfied. "And you certainly know the proper answers, don't you Skywarp? So how do you explain why I am so tolerant with your stupidities? Just because your childish pranks make me laugh?"

"I… I just did what you ordered, Megatron… defend the western frontier… I admit I started the fight with that Autobot but…"

"Did I ask you for explanations? Save them, as well as your lame excuses. They waste my time and they degrade you."

"As you command."

Megatron stood up and walked toward the window. The morning sunrays gently caressed his silver structure.

"The fate of this primitive nation is decided in small details. A mechano-meter can make a difference. If that foolish skirmish of yours had happened at the other side of the frontier, we would have the Autobots all over us right now as we speak."

"But it wasn't that way, Megatron… Sideswipe crossed the border. He was the invader."

"I know. And I must congratulate you for your intelligence in being careful with that detail, or maybe you should thank your good luck, because after all that's what heroes are made of, don't you agree?"

The black robot seemed to turn pale, despite the fact that his face was white. Once again, Adara's mind must have been playing tricks to her… or perhaps not.

"I'm very sorry, leader, I didn't think… I promise it won't happen again."

"I'm not in the mood for your pathetic excuses, Skywarp. You were lucky this time, and by some sort of bizarre coincidence you actually favored our position. But if you ever get close to endangering my plans again I'll make you regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes… I give you my word that I…"

"Stop stammering! Decepticons must never hesitate! Now return to your guard shift. Don't make me have this kind of conversation with you again."

Skywarp made an energetic military salute and left.

Adara hid behind one of the columns behind the door and felt the floor vibrating when the robot called Skywarp passed beside her. He didn't seem to notice her presence. He looked relieved, as if an immense weight had been released from his shoulders. At the same time, he seemed in a hurry to leave as quickly as possible.

Adara shook her head. She must have been spending a lot of time with Megatron if suddenly she could read an alien robot so easily.

Suddenly, the corridor behind her was empty. How was it possible for Skywarp to have left so soon? It was more like he had vanished…

But she wouldn't let the ordinary events of those Decepticons surprise her anymore. She abandoned her hiding place and allowed her figure to be visible under the threshold.

Megatron was still standing before the window, his optics fixated outside.

"Leave," he said.

Adara sighed. She hated how lately she had lost the ability to surprise him.

"You are certainly in a bad mood today," she said, ignoring his command.

"I'm not in the mood for you, human, simple as that."

"Why? Didn't I enunciate like a machine that stupid declaration you forced me to read? Isn't Lord Megatron satisfied with my performance?"

There was no answer.

She was not willing to give up. "I practically put war on the table, Megatron. I hope you are aware of that."

"The best way to insure peace is always carrying war ahead. Never underestimate the power of fear."

"And you shouldn't underestimate me! After all, it's me and only me that keeps you in the comfortable position you are in now. One single word from my lips and your Autobot enemies and the whole world will kick you out of here!"

Megatron burst out in laughter as he turned around from the window to face the annoyed female.

"But you won't pronounce such word, my dear. And not because I can easily prevent you from doing so, but because you just couldn't. Or tell me, am I mistaken?"

Adara opened her mouth to reply but no sound came out. She hated herself; she hated the way Megatron gloated every time he made her shut up.

The Decepticon leader nodded. "I'm glad we are understanding each other. You must never forget your place."

"I know my place perfectly. At your feet and with my legs open," she spat, her eyes flashing in fury.

Megatron smirked, lust clearly exposed in his features. "As I said, I'm glad we understand each other. You humans can have some sort of intelligence… sometimes."

A heavy duel of glances pended between woman and machine. Authentic fire lightened the brutal game of domination, still very far away from defining a winner.

It was Megatron who broke the silence.

"Undress."

Adara's eyes couldn't have been colder.

"No."

"You are already here, so make yourself useful. Remove your clothes!"

"You can forget about it, Megatron. You are not fucking me today!"

"That is not your decision to make. Obey!"

Adara ignored him and slowly walked toward the double doors that led to her room. She could feel Megatron's desire stabbing her back and for a moment she was close to giving herself to him in that same moment, over the same marble floor on which he had made her his for the first time.

But her pride won the battle and she allowed the door to close behind her.

What was simple wood compared to metal, or to bestial desire for the matter? No rival could have stopped Megatron in that moment.

Adara wasn't surprised when the doors broke into infinite pieces before the fury of the powerful arms of the Decepticon leader.

But she didn't surrender to him, not even when he tore off her clothes, not caring about his own strength, throwing her as an object to the bed.

He could dominate her, destroy her with one single finger, subdue her in a thousand and one ways, but still she would always have the satisfaction of her contempt. That was her freedom.

Resisting her own lust, however, was the enemy to battle at that single moment.

As the white of her silk sheets started to become red, Adara found herself before a revelation.

Megatron certainly knew what a virgin had been.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

  
_

_Many many thank yous to the readers and reviewers of this story. I'm currently writing two "serious" and two "humorous" fics at the same time, so all your comments are very valious guidances to prevent me for mixing both moods far too much. Gracias :o)_

_Lots of hugs to my sis iratepirate for beta reading this chapter._


	15. Innocent when you dream

_The sleep of reason produces monsters._

_Francisco de Goya, Spanish paintor, 1746-1828._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 15**

**Innocent when you dream**

Diffused memories of moans came back to Megatron as he leaned his forehead on the metallic wall before him.

Pain? Pleasure?

Words mixed in the same way the rivers of solvent fell over his shoulders to die at his feet. The liquid, the temperature of which almost reached the freezing point, had submerged the Decepticon leader into an hypnotic drowsiness. Neither his emotionless face nor his dimmed optics would have been able to reveal the inner storm of his thoughts.

The walls of his cleaning unit half reflected the motionless steel figure in one of his most intimate moments.

Solvent showers were common for Transformers, especially since their arrival on an organic planet saturated of substances and impurities able to penetrate the smallest joint of a Cybertronian's metallic body. However, they were also considered a private procedure, intimate.

And it was precisely the idea of intimacy that was driving Megatron insane.

From the very first time in which he had ripped off the human female's clothes, he was sure he was exposing and taking over everything she considered private.

Or at least, that's what he had thought.

But every time he had possessed her, every time he had explored her, entered her… he had found it was never enough. It didn't matter how many times he had made her moan in pain and pleasure, she would always be insatiable, revealing an eternity of new mysteries waiting to be exposed, a world in which he would have to force his entrance.

Megatron leaned his right arm beside his head, still resting on the wall. He was disarmed, oblivious of the exterior world, exposed to any murder attempt. But his own safety was a non-existent concern in the Decepticon Commander's processor in that moment.

The Nemesis base was almost deserted. The majority of the Decepticon forces that usually occupied it were in the human country, fulfilling like perfect clockwork the small process of draining a country of all its energy and a planet of its credibility.

But where was his own credibility? It would've taken him the use of only the slightest amount of strength to forever silence the moans of the flesh creature, to turn her pleasure into her last breath.

However, he hadn't done it. He had been in her lodgings several times and she continued living, smiling with that irony he hated so much.

She was not afraid of him. No matter how much he hurt her, she would never learn to fear him. She was always hungry, powerful inside her fragile existence, proud despite her inferior and perishable race.

A furious silver fist impacted the wall, wounding it. Immediately, the solvent deviated its course around Megatron's fist, getting between his fingers. It didn't matter how much he punched that wall, how much he allowed his anger to unleash upon the world, the liquid would continue falling sterile over his structure, unable to dissolve the memory of the touch of that soft foreign skin that smelled like gardenias.

Megatron activated his optics, adjusting his inner sensors to the dim light of his personal cleaning unit. He pushed himself off the wall and stared at his right hand, the same hand that night after night profaned the body of a caprice. He slowly directed it toward his chest and opened a hidden hatch.

Impenetrable iron layers protected his spark, the essence of his life and individuality, and the receiver of every pleasure. It was in there, in the naked sanctuary of his intimacy, where memories caused the worst damage, bringing back to him in merciless waves the remains of the delirium received just some hours ago.

_Adara touching him, Adara rubbing the essence of her femininity against him, Adara pronouncing his name like no one else had pronounced it before, Adara begging him to never stop…_

Megatron dimmed his optics again, allowing the solvent to freely caress his body. Maybe the cold could purify him.

------------------

It was 0317 terrestrial hours when the sensitive audios of Soundwave caught the low sounds coming from one of the arsenals of the base.

The Nemesis was a ghost. Immense and solitary when occupied, now that it was almost alone it seemed like a crypt.

But Soundwave was very far away from having superstitious thoughts, even less fearful. Security was the main concern on his processor when he listened to the sounds. It didn't matter that the Nemesis was a practically impenetrable base to any enemy attack, being blindly confident had never been a weakness of the Decepticon Communications Officer.

Soundwave silenced his steps as his shoulder cannon started to rotate in anticipation. The noises didn't stop, and soon Soundwave sighted the arsenal that was the fountain of his suspicion. The door was open.

Ancient weapons decorated the place, most of them relegated to oblivion when more destructive technology took over, but not a single one of them had been retired without harvesting enemies' sparks.

And there, surrounded by the old glories of his days as a gladiator, was the lonely silver figure, his body caressed by the bluish lights that came from outside the window, giving him a ghostly appearance.

Megatron stared at Soundwave, still toying with the transparent cube within his hands. Another half dozen full cubes waited their turn on the table, irradiating the unmistakable luster of high grade energon.

Soundwave knew that Megatron had returned to Headquarters, but he was surprised to find him there, so uncovered, inside that anonymous arsenal. Megatron was not carrying his fusion cannon.

But it was even more surprising to witness the current state of the Decepticon leader. It wasn't the full cubes on the table, nor the empty ones scattered across the floor, that announced the over energized status of Megatron. It was his face… the impossible expression of the Decepticon Commander's face… something that Soundwave had never seen before.

Megatron was suffering.

But, once again, Soundwave repeated to himself that he was no one to question Megatron's moods, even less his motives. The Communications Officer slowly bowed his head and moved to leave, not having the slightest intention of invading the privacy of his Commander. But the sound of a voice that was used to command stopped him under the threshold, a voice that suddenly sounded so tortured.

"Stay," Megatron said. It wasn't an order, but a plea.

Soundwave hesitated, something completely unusual for him, but finally approached and sat in the chair in front of Megatron.

The hand of the Decepticon leader held an energon cube and impulsed it toward his lieutenant. The cube slid softly over the table.

"Drink, Soundwave, drink with me."

Soundwave stopped the journey of the cube over the metallic surface and stared uneasily at it. It wasn't the first time that Megatron had shared a moment with him outside the rigid military protocol. He knew his leader trusted and appreciated him, but witnessing a moment of vulnerability of the usually rough and brutal Decepticon Commander was as uncomfortable as it was dangerous.

How it was possible for Megatron to continue functioning after drinking such a monstrous amount of high grade was a mystery. It was obvious he was too over energized, but that was not an obstacle for his imposing stance to prevail, just as Soundwave verified when he realized his leader had a perfectly firm grip on his own cube as he waited.

Soundwave grabbed his cube and lifted it toward his face.

He stayed some seconds motionless until a low metallic noise sounded in the penumbra, indicating that he had removed his face mask. The shadows protected his features, but the purple lightning of the energon created subtle shines over them. Even within his inebriation, Megatron silently thanked the trust his lieutenant was showing him. Never, under any circumstance, did the silent Communications Officer exhibit his face in front of anybody, even in front of his Cassettes.

Megatron smirked and directed his attention toward the high grade beneath him. He drank half his cube with a single sip.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it my friend?" he rasped. "And yet, it seems that it was only yesterday when we started this war."

"It has been an honor being beside you from the beginning, Lord Megatron," Soundwave honestly replied. His voice lost its monotonic harmonics in the absence of his face mask.

Megatron burst out in laughter. "Don't you dare to think I don't appreciate your loyalty! You were with me when all this started, and you still will be when it's over. You have my word on it!"

Soundwave slowly nodded. "Your trust is highly appreciated."

The laugh of the Decepticon leader faded. Outside the window, some marine creature created a shadow when it sliced the ray of light coming from one of the external lamps of the base.

That was the spot on which Megatron fixated his glaze, within that alien ocean in which he had been forced to mimic a home.

"I really envy you, Soundwave. Nothing can shatter you. Your emotions are always perfectly controlled."

Soundwave didn't reply immediately. His face was partially covered by the energon cube, the sweet liquid sliding slowly through his throat components.

It wasn't common for Megatron to speak to him in such a personal way. True, the Decepticon leader was extremely over energized, but Soundwave knew that wasn't the high grade speaking. Megatron was conflicted and he didn't have any other way to express it. That was the reason why Soundwave lowered his defenses, once again. In the same way he had retired his face mask, he also allowed his habitual coldness to back off.

"It's a façade," he simply said.

Megatron laughed again. "Tell me something I don't know! But I appreciate your sincerity, Soundwave…"

Megatron got up and walked toward the window. Despite his inebriation, his steps were as dominant and firm as always.

Long minutes of silence expired. The only signal of life came from outside; from the marine fauna that were already used to the immense motionless object that lay on the bottom of their ocean. The transparent glass allowed the entrance of the artificial light of the Nemesis, creating a bluish glimmer over the shoulders of the Decepticon leader.

"I must see her."

Instinctive alerts buzzed inside Soundwave. He knew very little about the situation, nothing more than what his own suspicions had guided him to, but he understood Megatron's words perfectly. He was sure about something, though: logic had nothing to do with it in that moment.

Soundwave returned his face mask to its place and stood up from his chair.

Megatron separated from the window. His face was unreadable.

"I must see her. Now!"

"Suggestion: enter recharge mode. Systems malfunction detected."

"Spare me advice I never requested! Is the space bridge module inside the Nemesis ready to operate?"

"Affirmative, but it hasn't been tested."

"I will test it myself right now. Activate it!"

Soundwave didn't move.

"I told you to activate it, Soundwave!" Megatron yelled, aiming an imaginary fusion cannon at his subordinate.

"Space bridge module recently finished. Functioning: unstable. Risk of destruction: imminent."

Megatron's fury seemed to decrease, although Soundwave knew him enough to realize that was only a fleeting moment of apparent peace, a preamble of the rage to come. It didn't surprise him when Megatron attacked, but the supersonic speed in which the powerful grey fist impacted his face did.

Despite his size and strength, Soundwave retreated and had to make an effort to stay on his feet. Being over energized hadn't lowered Megatron's power. There was much more than circuits and energon behind the brutal hit.

"Suggestion: desist… violent demeanor," the Comunications Officer managed to say, still shaken by the impact.

Megatron's answer was another fierce hit. This time Soundwave protected his face with both arms, but still he was violently thrown backwards. His back crashed noisily against the wall.

Words would have no effect. It wasn't the high grade, or the fury… Megatron was dominated by his obsession and he wouldn't back off.

Soundwave materialized his concussion blaster and prepared to shoot a stunning ray, but steely fingers grabbed his hand and crushed it against the wall, breaking the Communications Officer's wrist in the process. Sparks flew and illuminated the scene. Outside, the marine fauna remained indifferent to the deadly battle taking place so close to them.

Soundwave was aware of Megatron's immense power, although he had never, until now, tested it by himself. Even disarmed, the Decepticon leader was an unbeatable rival.

Ignoring the pain of his shattered wrist, Soundwave concentrated all his physical strength on his legs and managed to kick Megatron away. The Decepticon leader stepped back, giving his rival enough time to use one of his most powerful weapons. The urgency of the moment gave no place for alternatives.

Soundwave punched a button on his left shoulder and destructive sound waves shook the silver figure that was already returning with murderous intentions.

Megatron stopped and put his hands on both sides of his head. For some astro seconds it seemed that Soundwave's sound attack had been successful, but the Decepticon leader continued advancing, oblivious to pain, and crushed Soundwave's shoulder with a vicious punch. The sound waves stopped immediately; it was obvious that this time the Communications Officer had suffered serious damage.

However, Megatron didn't finish what he started. His optics fixated on Soundwave's right shoulder.

"Why didn't you use your shoulder cannon?" the Decepticon Commander asked.

"Your destruction… not intended."

Megatron released his prey and backed off.

"One of these days, Soundwave, I will allow you to enter my mind. Until then, I will continue denying what I'm afraid to find. Now prepare the space bridge module. I will return to the desert immediately."

Soundwave nodded in silence, trying to ignore the pain burning him.

Megatron walked toward the door and stopped under the threshold. Suddenly, it seemed that his inebriation had disappeared. When he spoke again, his voice was as cold and assertive as always.

"If _this_ becomes a weakness, you will dispose of me and assume command. The Decepticon cause must always be priority. Do you understand, Soundwave?"

Soundwave didn't answer. He couldn't have done it.

---------------

"What part of _no _don't you understand, scraplet?"

Reflector stared shyly at Skywarp, nervously twisting his small hands.

"What am I supposed to say to the human ambassador, then?" he asked.

Skywarp leaned dangerously over the smaller Decepticon, a killer glance in his optics. "What are you, a fool? What's your slagging problem? Tell him the human queen is indisposed and won't be able to see him in… how many solar cycles, TC?"

"Five at least."

"That's it, five… If he wants to talk to her he will have to ask Soundwave for authorization first, and as far as I know, he went back to the Nemesis earlier in the evening."

"It's alright, Reflector," Thundercracker said. "We will inform Soundwave."

Reflector looked at Thundercracker with a smile on his face and hurried to leave, trotting and raising small sand clouds in the nocturnal desert.

"I don't understand why you have to be such a slimebucket with him, Warp," the blue Seeker said.

"I can't stand him! He's such a weakling; three times a weakling if you ask me… What's the deal with the human queen, anyway? Why did Megatron order us to isolate her for days?"

Thundercracker remained some moments in silence before answering. "I assume she is not… presentable."

"Presentable? What do you mean?"

"Never mind."

"You know something I don't and you are not telling me, TC! Talk!"

Thundercracker was about to tell his wingmate just where he could insert his curiosity when a close roar made both Seekers turn around to see the beams of energy and the sand whirlwind that came from the sky over the recently built space bridge.

"Are we expecting visitors?" Thundercracker asked, getting his incendiary gun missiles ready.

"Not that I know of… But wait, Screamer said he would come back from Cybertron as soon as possible."

"He's not coming back until tomorrow. Prepare for battle."

"Should I ask for support?"

"Not yet…"

Skywarp raised his weapons but Thundercracker grabbed his arms. The black Seeker looked confused at his best friend, his curiosity more awake than ever.

"What the slag is going on, TC?"

Thundercracker silenced him with a strong yank, forcing him to turn his back to the space bridge.

"But what the…!"

"Sssshhh! Shut up and keep your optics to the front, Warp."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just do as I say."

Skywarp looked over his shoulder.

"It's Megatron!"

A new yank on his arm made him face Thundercracker.

"I told you to keep your optics to the front!"

"But TC… we should report to him."

"Listen to what I say for once in your life, frag it! DON'T YOU LOOK AT HIM. Do you understand? Don't even show him we realized his presence."

"But why…?"

"Trust me. Megatron doesn't want to be disturbed tonight."

-----------------

A shadow towered over the fragile figure that rested on the bed. Closed eyes harmonized with the whiteness of the pillow, for once not exposing their characteristic glimpse of irony.

But it wasn't those eyelids that Megatron saw, nor the small lock of black hair that slowly moved as it grazed Adara's half-opened mouth.

It wasn't difficult for Megatron's optical sensors to trespass the insignificant textile of the sheets, even less the transparent tunic that covered the flesh body that refused to abandon his thoughts.

Bruises, small slashes and reddish stains altered the smooth perfection of that skin. In every single one of them, Megatron recognized his own touch.

He hated her, and still he couldn't stop looking at her. He had gone there with the only purpose of strengthening what already belonged to him, but suddenly he felt unable to possess her, of hurting her again. An invisible barrier born from his own torture didn't allow him to touch her.

But despite it all, a strange peace reigned inside that room in penumbra, dominated by Adara's soft breathing and the tranquil expression of her face.

For the first time in millennia, Megatron had found a moment in time in which war didn't exist. It didn't matter if it was only an appearance.

But he instinctively rejected that peace. He wouldn't let it contaminate him.

Megatron turned around and left, once again refusing to look inside himself.

----------------

Adara opened her eyes. The distant reverberation of metallic footsteps was still present in the subconscious memory of her ears.

Also within her eyelashes prevailed the image of the big shadow over her, terrible crimson eyes watching her sleep, not losing a single detail.

Had Megatron been there?

Adara slowly denied the thought with a shake of her head. The subtle movement made her sore body complain about its pain.

No, Megatron would never have come to only leave without having his way with her.

She must have been dreaming.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

  
_

_Happy New Year people! I really appreciate you have been with me during the past year. Writing TF fanfiction is always a pleasure and I love to share it with all of you._

_Many many hugs to my sis iratepirate for beta reading this chapter._


	16. The wrath of the weak

_This chapter was inspired by a review left by Fire Redhead, one of the best writers of this site. Big thanks to her for the inspiration! _

_Beta reading courtesy of iratepirate, another creator of outstanding stories. Many thanks :o)_

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 16**

**The wrath of the weak**

Patience was perhaps the most precious of virtues.

Because it was one of the most deceitful.

Milk, honey, essences, flowers, oils… Pharaohnic experiences impregnated the days and nights of Adara, who waited…

Waited as her skin regenerated, as her wounds closed, as the bruisers disappeared…

Pain had left many days ago, ignored by the woman it was supposed to torture. It didn't matter if wounds bit as they closed, if her skin burned in every inch in which her perfection had been forced.

It was delicious.

The pain.

Because _he _had caused it.

Intense green eyes trespassed the closed doors, always finding the same emptiness.

Minutes continued dying, turning themselves into hours, and the doors didn't open.

Then it was turn for the days.

If patience was the most precious of the virtues, Adara would always lean on vice.

---------------

Sharp heels wounded the lustrous surface of the corridor. Ripped curtains, two priceless Chinese vases shattered on the floor, nails leaving signals of their frustrated path along the walls…

Adara reached her destination: the frontier between human and machine, the imaginary line that nobody else but her was allowed to cross.

"I want to see Megatron."

The robot guarding the end of the corridor stared at her with curiosity.

"Are you deaf, peak head?! Summon your leader!" she demanded.

The grimace of contempt on the metallic face of the winged blue Decepticon couldn't have been less important to the irate sovereign.

"The name is Dirge, human, and you better…"

"Your name will be junk if you don't obey me! Since when does a simple soldier dare to speak to his Queen with such disrespect? The floor you are stepping on, disgusting trash can, belongs to me! If I give you an order, you obey it, is that clear? Make Megatron come to my room or the world will know exactly what I think about my honorable Decepticon guests."

Not waiting for an answer, Adara turned around and continued attacking the floor with her heels, leaving a very astonished Dirge behind.

---------------

Waiting returned, her patience challenged. Sitting on a pile of pillows, her figure illuminated by a hundred candles, Adara waited.

And waited.

Not many hours passed, nevertheless. Night was beginning to fall when the desired doors finally opened, pushed violently by the two powerful, dark hands that populated her minutes of daydreams.

The severe face of Megatron didn't frighten her, neither his furious glance. He was there, with her. That was all that mattered.

"It highly pleases me to see you again, Megatron," she welcomed him, smiling.

An energetic movement of the Decepticon leader's arm pulverized the white sculpture of a woman who guarded the door. Dead marble eyes witnessed from the floor the impossible couple before them.

"Know this, human, you don't summon me; _never_!"

Adara bowed her head with authentic humility. "I apologize. But it has been days since the you last granted me the grace of your company."

"I have been busy," his roughness replied.

"Have I done something to displease you, my Lord? Haven't I fulfilled each one of your desires, each of your fantasies…?"

Megatron stared at the human at his feet with intense hate. Such a pathetic flesh worm she was… and yet she moved so easily within the confines of seduction. Despite what her first blood had said, Megatron suddenly wondered if somebody else had been between her legs before him. For some reason, the mere thought infuriated him.

"I interrupted something much more important than your childish games to give you this audience, human, so state your purpose," he almost roared.

"Please, sit…"

"I told you I'm busy. Speak now or you will never be heard again."

"Megatron, please… take a seat. I ordered those pillows especially for you, for your comfort… They are one of a kind on this planet, I assure you."

Megatron looked disdainfully at the huge pillows carefully piled in front of Adara, perfect for the big size of a Cybertronian.

"Your superfluous manifestations of luxury repulse me," he spat.

"Please… is comfort so disgusting to you? I know you despise me… but at least I thought that with me you didn't feel the need to hide anything, or fake it for that matter…"

Narrowed crimson optics scrutinized the Queen's face in search of even the slightest trace of irony.

Megatron reluctantly sat, hating himself more than ever. How could he allow her to have so much influence over him?

Adara smiled, triumphant. She got up and started to walk slowly toward him. Light gusts of nocturnal wind found their way through the window and started to make her light dress play over her body.

"Are you upset with me, Megatron?" she insisted. "Are you punishing me for something?"

"I don't have time for you right now, human."

Jeweled hands started to follow the wind's game. "Perhaps not time…" she whispered, "but what about desire?"

Actions followed words. The pearl colored dress kissed the floor, letting the Queen emerge in all her splendor. Soft and naked skin exposed itself before the Decepticon Commander, lust and pleas exuding from each one of its pores.

"As you can see, my wounds heal fast… Do you see something in me that displeases you?"

Adara continued her erotic dance, each one of her steps a provocation, each movement of her perfect hips an invitation to sin.

"The absence of said wounds, perhaps," Megatron replied, momentarily giving into his lust.

Adara turned her body around, making sure that there was no inch he couldn't see, absorb… she wanted him to look at her with unprecedented lechery, she wanted him to possess her right there, just as he had done before…

"Then hurt me again, open my flesh… I will find blessings in my own blood if that pleases you."

Megatron disdainfully smirked. "Your insanity, human, is something that still can surprise me, I must admit."

"You will never get bored with me, I still have a thousand nights to prove it," she purred.

Adara continued approaching him, slowly, praying for him to be able to smell her desire.

Megatron allowed her to get close, apparently impassive before her spell. Moonlight illuminated the thin silhouette before him. Femininity and fatality in one, Adara knew how to use the delicacy of her eighteen years of life perfectly well.

She arrived to him. Her ardent skin touched his cold metal as her arms and breasts started to graze Megatron's fusion cannon. He didn't react, but didn't stop staring at her for a single moment.

"Don't you want me, Megatron? Don't you think about my body when you are not with me? Aaah… it's been too many days since the last time you touched me…"

"Retreat," he dryly said.

"Do you want me to beg you? Because I will… Your slave is pleading for your touch, oh Lord Megatron…"

"Retreat!" he repeated.

"I can't…" she sincerely responded.

"Is it pain that you are looking for, human? Do you want new injuries to your body, new ways to challenge the resistance of your skin?"

"It's you who I want."

Megatron frowned. Suddenly the words coming from her mouth were unbearable, hurtful…

"I have ways to cause you pain, pain beyond all your nightmares," he said.

"If you can inflict me pain as much as you can inflict me pleasure, then I welcome all your tortures," she replied, never stopping in rubbing herself against Megatron's arm.

"Step back. Your touch repulses me."

"No."

"I told you to step back!" he suddenly yelled, throwing her away with a violent movement of his arm. His strength had been carefully calculated, barely enough to interrupt that burning touch, but for Adara it was a brutal hurricane that sent her to the floor.

There was blood coming out of her nose when she raised her head and stared at the culprit of her pain.

"Do you know what I think, Megatron? I know what I did to make you so angry. I know the reason why I'm purging this penitence."

Heavy silence welcomed the words that followed, wisdom created after those magical nights of being possessed by a metal sentient being.

"I can give you pleasure, and that disturbs you," she continued. "You think about me more than you dare to admit… and that is destroying you."

Megatron suddenly got up. For a moment his irate optics looked like murder.

But Adara didn't reject the challenge. She got up too, nude and proud, forgetting about the pain of her recent fall.

"Why did you make me give myself to you?!" she cried. "Why did you force me to kill my own father?! Why did you make me fall in lo…?!"

"SILENCE!!"

Adara fell silent, feeling for the first time since his arrival the coldness of the night.

"I know I can't make you love me, but I can make you hate me," she said after what seemed like an eternity. Her voice lacked of hate, of passion… It was exactly how truth had to sound.

Slowly, the young woman walked toward her dress and picked it up from the floor.

"And no matter how much you hate me, I know you will continue wanting me," she ended as she allowed the soft silk to cover her nudity again.

Her eyes fixated on the floor, and there they remained, even when the furious steps and the gust of wind caused by the Decepticon leader's exit shook her body.

Adara was alone again, sheltered by the moonlight coming through the big cupola on the roof.

-------------------

Starscream stepped noisily on the sand, making sure that his presence was noticed. His fine radars captured the energy signals of hundreds of organic living forms, predation their only means of survival within the nocturnal desert. But he ignored them, very insignificant creatures they were if even a human was able to step on them.

Megatron was standing on a dune, apparently staring at the preparations that were being made in order to send the first huge energon shipment to Cybertron through the space bridge. Thousands of compressed cubes were being piled by the Construticons and Reflector, silently guarded by the Combaticons.

Starscream reached Megatron, once again making sure not to take his Commander by surprise.

"You still haven't asked me about my trip to Cybetron, leader," the Seeker said ironically, placing himself beside Megatron.

"You are here, so I assume it was a success," Megatron growled in response.

"To your disgrace, yes, although the space bridge could have been more benign. It will be very fortunate if all your precious energon arrives without incident. Failure, as you told me yourself, is always a possibility."

Megatron's facial features sketched what was perhaps a smirk. "You would wish that, wouldn't you Starscream? It's a shame for you that the space bridge has been perfected during the last solar cycles. Failure is _not_ a possibility."

Starscream sighed as more and more compressed energon cubes were being piled inside the big metallic ring. "Then I must congratulate you, leader. What a big triumph you are about to add to your large list of successes. You will send so much energon to Cybertron that you will allow Shockwave to energize all of Polyhex. You will give something to celebrate to those loathsome losers that still believe in you. _Megatron the saviour… _I can already hear their clamors."

Megatron didn't answer, collapsing the last barrier of Starscream's suspicions. The Air Commander decided to keep pressuring. Megatron was not the same that night, but he had to be sure.

"You know, mighty leader?" Starscream continued. "Sometimes I think you don't want to leave this place."

Megatron stared blankly at his Second in Command. It seemed that Soundwave was not the only one who could exercise the skill of observation…

"We will leave this country as soon as our mission is concluded," he simply said.

Starscream smirked. "What mission, Megatron? Ours… or yours?"

Once again, Starscream was proving to know more than he pretended. Megatron had never favored discretion, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. His decisions and actions were unquestionable, no matter their nature. He was the Decepticon Supreme Commander, and his words meant law.

"As always, Starscream, you talk nonsense."

The Seeker frowned, frustrated because his attempts to bother Megatron were not taking him anywhere. It was time to use another kind of artillery.

"What were you thinking when you humiliated me in front of that female fleshling?" he asked, his voice strangely low pitched.

"Analyzing your life, Starscream, I think it's very clear that you alone are more than capable of humiliating yourself. Do you really need my help for that?"

"Even though I never asked for it, you will keep granting it, that is how generous you are."

Megatron ignored the acid remark. His attention was too diluted, like never before. Starscream knew that the last thing on the tyrant's mind was the energon shipment. It was hard to recognize his normally controlled and merciless leader in that façade.

Megatron was suffering. Inner waves of malice reminded the Air Commander how foolish he would be if he didn't take advantage of the situation.

"I'll skip the logic part, not to mention the repugnance… What you are doing is insane, Megatron. It's not… natural."

Megatron didn't even stare at his Second in Command. He knew what was coming, the final destination of Starscream's intentions, clear as water.

"Bizarre, Starscream… You talking about insanity."

"Some things don't mix," the Seeker responded with clear indignation. "You insult the principles of our sacred cause."

"And since when does our cause mean anything to you besides your personal benefit?"

"Since you began soiling it with your shameful behaviour."

Megatron's murderous optics finally decided to confront his subordinate, but Starscream didn't back off.

"Come on, Megatron… all you have to do is use the space bridge, and you would be in the best pleasure house in Kaon, surrounded by real femmes wiling to fulfill your darkest fantasies… Why a human? I knew you were a pervert when you fell for that Nightbird toy, but this…? You just can't keep your spark chamber closed, can you?"

Indifferent to the danger that Megatron's silence represented, Starscream advanced toward the top of the dune, absent-mindedly looking at the pale sphere shinning among the stars.

"Are you going to show Cybertron's moons to the fleshling? How romantic… Don't forget to take her to Darkmount. I'm certain she will love to see the most powerful fortress of our Empire beside her dearest lover…"

Starscream wasn't surprised when a claw closed around his neck. He was expecting such movement, actually. Megatron's patience had a limit, and he always knew how to cross it. However, the omens of reward were too strong to be ignored, and Starscream was wiling to bear all the pain in the universe to reach them.

"If you know what is good for you, Starscream, you will shut your filthy vocalizer about matters that don't concern you."

"Y-yes, my leader…" the Seeker stammered, barely able to talk due to the brutal pressure crushing his throat components. "I… I'm just… worried about your reputation… that is all…"

Megatron tightened his grip on Starscream's neck for several seconds, almost grinding it, before letting go and leaving his Second in Command to fall unceremoniously on the sand.

"My reputation, you disgusting rat, should be the last of your preoccupations. Bother me with this one more time, and I will give you something to really worry about."

Megatron said no more and walked toward the space bridge. The energon shipment was ready and the Constructicons were waiting for his orders.

"One last thing, Megatron…" Starscream said as he laboriously got up. He had to do it… he had to give the final thrust before being sure…

Megatron stopped.

"I was wondering…" the Seeker continued. "How is it? How does it feel to interface with a human female? Would you satisfy my curiosity and give me details about your encounters with your sweet, precious lover?"

Megatron didn't reply. For a moment, Starscream was sure that that sandy ground and that bastard moon would be the last things his optics would ever see.

But the attack didn't arrive. Megatron continued walking, ignoring his Second in Command, and opening a triumphant door for him in the process.

Starscream made a rapid search in his data banks. Megatron's technical specifications were internally displayed before his optics. Strength, rank, endurance, firepower… nothing that mattered to him. He highlighted the part he was looking for.

_Weaknesses: none._

Starscream smirked. It was wonderful how things could change so drastically in the blink of an optic. Slowly, enjoying every moment of it, he erased the formerly hated specification and wrote a single word in its place.

A name.

A name that meant virgin.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

  
_

_I couldn't help the reference to the "Enter the Nightbird" episode, one of the best of the series and actually the only one in G1 that showed a realistic reaction concerning sexual attraction. When Megatron says that Nightbird is "everthing he always wanted", he does it with so much lust… And going to rescue her when the Autobots managed to defeat her was priceless._

_Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated :o)_


	17. The Hedgehog’s Dilemma

"_The phrase __**hedgehog's dilemma**__ refers to the notion that the closer two beings come to each other, the more likely they are to hurt one another. However, if they remain apart, they will each feel the pain of __loneliness__. This comes from the idea that __hedgehogs__, with sharp spines on their backs, will hurt each other if they get too close."_

_Urban dictionary._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 17**

**The Hedgehog's Dilemma**

"Take off your clothes."

The shivering hands of the soldier directed themselves toward the buttons of his jacket. The stoicism of his green uniform was violated by the blush of his juvenile face. His lowered glance tried to find shelter, perhaps his rifle leaning on the wall, his most trusted companion, his family… anything that prevented his sinful eyes from falling on the forbidden figure of his young queen.

Complete obedience was as natural to him as breathing itself. However, his hands stopped when the last button was released.

Adara stared at the living object that was before her, looking for something that could attract her. It wasn't a human being that was standing in front of her, it wasn't a soldier… it was nothing more than a temporary catalyst.

"Take off your clothes!" she repeated, her voice acquiring the unmistakable sharp harmonic of anger.

The young man continued removing his uniform. Awkward hands took the shirt off, unzipped the pants…

The clothes fell to the marble floor, as cold as the uncovered body that was shaking before the disdainful scrutiny of furious green eyes.

Adara walked slowly around the naked body of the soldier, who continued staring at the floor.

He was a child, perhaps not older than twenty years. He was remarkably handsome, his slender but muscular body would have been a fantasy for any woman…

But not for Adara. Her ferocious libido couldn't have been more disappointed. What was before her eyes was pathetic.

After her initial examination, she stood in front of the soldier.

"Get closer."

He obeyed, always trembling.

"Touch me."

Once again, the blind obedience he had learned since his birth shook inside his terrified mind. Touching the Queen… impossible, even when he had been selected to be her toy.

Adara burst into laughter, cruel harmonics bouncing on the cold walls.

"Do you find me beautiful, soldier?"

He slowly nodded after a heavy moment of silence.

"Speak!" she yelled, her voice as sharp as a dagger.

"Y…yes…"

"Do you want me?"

"M…my Queen… please…"

"Do you want me or not?"

"Y…yes… very much …"

"Touch me then."

For the first time, the soldier dared to raise his head and looked at the forbidden face. There was so much anguish in his brown eyes, on his skin tanned by the sun and by so many journeys made playing war… Adara wondered if that boy had already stained his hands with blood.

"One word," she said.

His stare was a plea.

"Only one word from my lips," she continued, "and your head will roll down. Or perhaps I will be merciful and you will only lose your tongue."

The shivering hands of the soldier moved again. They slowly headed upward, toward the small and firm waist that didn't react to his touch.

Adara moved her face toward his and found a mouth that wasn't waiting for her. Dry lips welcomed her, dead from the beginning. But the reaction of the soldier couldn't have been less important to her; it was the sterility of her own kiss, the empty flavor of a mouth she didn't desire.

It wasn't until he started to caress her tongue against his when she brutally returned to reality. She felt flesh within his legs, hardening and looking to enter her. Nude skin tightened against her clothes, trying to pierce the fine textile, targeting her femininity…

Adara stepped back. The dry sound of her hand impacting the astonished face of the soldier brutally broke the silence. Besides a reddish cheek, three thin scratches left the mark of the Queen's rage.

Hate and disgust created a grimace on the beautiful olive face. It was her turn now for degradation. What had she thought she could find in that pathetic imitation of a man, in his sweaty hands, in his mouth that tasted like dust, in the repulsive erection that was still coming from between his legs?

"Get out… GET OUT!!"

The soldier hurried to grab his clothes and ran toward the door, his naked silhouette abandoning the room as fast as a sigh.

Even before he was gone, Adara had already forgotten him. Her attention focused on the rifle the young man had left behind. Metal… cold and hard…

_Metal…_

She fell on her knees, infinitely frustrated. She knew what she wanted, _who _she wanted, what her tortured body was crying for… How much more would she have to beg?

----------------

The pale shine of the screen on the small device that resembled a computer created blurry shadows on the face that seemed to be made of ivory.

But Adara remained blind to the alien device that Megatron's silent lieutenant had given her. As cold and monotonous as the voice of the strange robot, Adara's schedule only confirmed her status of being an object, of being a toy…

Megatron had refused to see her for days and now he was showing himself in the shape of written orders, orders that left no place for discussion. It was expected of her to obey, to continue being a doll and a caprice.

_Press release at 1700 hours, reunion with the representative of the United Nations at 1800…_ nothing more than pathetic masquerades that wouldn't do anything but reinforce a worldwide-known lie. It seemed that Megatron had quickly gained an understanding of the advantages the hypocrisy that was human diplomacy offered, and he certainly knew how to use them.

Megatron…

Adara couldn't understand how the same eyes that devoured her with so much lust could also look at her with so much hate. But she was her biggest enigma. She just couldn't understand why she stood so docilely the eternal waiting for those moments in which he conceded her the grace of his touch.

She didn't recognize herself. From forced prisoner in a golden cage, she had become a slave by her own decision. She had accepted her role and embraced it. There had to be another reason, another one that wasn't related to the fire burning between her legs.

Fury turned into a queen when the damaged pride of Adara cried in desperation.

_Megatron._

Long years of infantile loneliness had made an adult of her at an age at which her body was not ready for the brutal desires that would assault her in her adolescence, but her actual eighteen years of life betrayed her. Traces of a child remained inside of her, a rancorous child, hungry for caprices.

A child that knew no boundaries.

Megatron would repent. At least for once, she would see him on his knees.

-------------------

Some Transformers used masks to protect their faces during combat; others did it to hide their emotions.

Adara needed no mask, or veil, to disguise her defeat.

When Megatron entered the double doors of her room, not even a minimal trace of the rage of the young queen remained.

One single musical note repeated itself monotonously as the thin jeweled finger pressed again and again the primitive mechanism. Her royal face was absent-mindedly leaning on the black ebony and white ivory of the alien device.

"Piano," she answered the question that was never spoken. "Is there something like this in your world?"

"Prepare yourself," Megatron said, ignoring her. "You are expected to appear on the human communications network in five breems."

"Five breems…? That is thirty five minutes, right?" she asked with weak voice, always producing the same sound with the piano device. "I still have problems understanding the way you measure time… I wonder if an eternity for me is the same as a sigh for you…"

Megatron detected immediately the strange tone in Adara's voice, the slight tremor of her body, the increase of her heart rate, her faltering breath…

Nothing that he cared about, though; he didn't have to care. He forced himself to despise her once again, to remove her from that place inside of him in which all she could do was cause damage. Arrogant, repulsive flesh creature… Her insignificant caprices wouldn't be tolerated anymore.

"Soundwave will deliver you your speech. You will read it entirely, not a single alteration whatsoever… Look at me when I speak to you!"

Adara's index finger stopped moving, grazing the key she was about to press for the umpteenth time. Her indifferent face turned to her master. Megatron responded to her stare with infinite contempt, hate, disgust… desire also. He hated the way she could alter him.

"Do you hate me?" Adara asked, her voice weaker. "I told you I could make you hate me…"

"You are not worth enough to deserve my hate."

She smiled and shook her head slightly. Megatron found something foreign in that small smile. It wasn't ironic, or seductive. It seemed sad.

"Do you feel something for me, Megatron? Something not related to contempt, I mean… When we are alone, when you touch me… what do you feel?"

"You make me hate myself."

Sincere, straight, brutal answer. His voice so cold, his glance so hard. Megatron was as familiar with lust as much as he was with disdain toward everything he considered weak. And in that moment, Adara was dangerously crossing that line.

"I understand," she whispered, rotating her body on the piano's stool and facing him.

"If you've finished your pathetic small talk, you'd do well in preparing for your public declaration. The Autobots and their human allies are closer every cycle. It is time for you to make the position of this country clear. It is time for you to mention war."

"And then what, Megatron? Will I return to this confinement, to wait for you to give me the crumbs of your attention?"

Megatron smirked. "Perhaps you won't even obtain that, my dear."

The Decepticon leader was waiting for a reaction, something that returned the human to her customary arrogance, that returned the challenging shine to her eyes… Watching her so suddenly weakened was starting to exasperate him.

But it didn't happen. The femme made an effort to get up, but her body slid slowly toward the floor, as if it had no volume or weight. Adara leaned her head on the wooden stool, not giving up her fragile smirk.

Megatron frowned. What was that? Defeat? No… It seemed that the insolent creature was exploring new terrains for her haughtiness.

"I'm so sorry," she softly said, "but I'm afraid I won't be able to fulfill your order."

Megatron's face couldn't have been more threatening, but she wasn't frightened.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Megatron?"

"I believe in the natural order of the universe, and that order is mine to impose. If you want to continue your life cycle, you will obey me now, human!"

"It's a little late for that…"

It was then when Megatron properly focused on the shivering of her hands and the paleness of her face. But, most of all, it was her difficulty to speak that caught his attention.

"It is a ghost who you are addressing right now, my Lord… I'm already dead."

And then, the impossible happened, the one thing that the cold spark of the Decepticon Supreme Commander would have never expected from that female in particular.

Tears… he saw tears coming from her eyes, the last frontier, the ultimate weakness exposed bare naked before him. Megatron felt the urgency to crush her.

The traitorous moon light, or perhaps the fall of his own blindness… Megatron didn't know what it was, but in that moment the truth revealed itself like a bizarre irony.

Adara's eyes, every second less alive, continued to allow the flow of the accursed liquid. But it wasn't sadness that was causing that explicit display of humanity.

_Blood…_

His human was crying blood.

Guided by instinct, Megatron activated his infrared sight and looked around. Almost immediately, he detected the small energy signature dragging itself under the Queen's bed.

Instinct continued its reign, completely dethroning cold reason. That was a battle that Megatron had already lost.

"You stupid human, what did you do?!!" he roared as he made a wall collapse with a violent punch.

But he had no time to waste expressing his anger. He didn't know much about what had happened, but he understood every astro second was precious.

With a delicacy that contrasted with the rapidity of his movement, Megatron took Adara in his hands and lifted her up. He felt her against his chest, her body every second more lax… The same body he had possessed with so much lust was now fading between his fingers.

Warm blood stained the purple insignia of the Decepticon leader. Not only her eyes, now also the nose of the young femme was bleeding. Megatron was very used to her blood but, for the first time since he had taken her virginity, it was he who felt the pain.

Adara was still conscious when Megatron took her out of the darkened room. Before her reddish eyes closed, she had time to smile one more time.

There was a sound coming from Megatron's chest, almost musical… She would have liked to tell him how beautiful that sound was, but the blood that suddenly started to spill from her mouth made any word impossible.

Behind, all that was left was a lonely black piano, and a snake that was uselessly searching for heat signals to continue fulfilling the hunter role nature had assigned her.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

  
_

_I can't believe it's been so long since I updated this story! But finally I got to write one of the chapters that inspired me to write this fic in the first place._

_Many thanks to my beta reader and sis iratepirate, and to all of you who have been so supportive. Your reviews and comments are always very appreciated._


	18. A place without limits

_Thank you very much for the amazing reviews received for the previous chapter of this story. After not updating it in months, I thought you guys have forgotten about it, but I thank you deeply for welcoming it __back so warmly. I also noticed new reviewers and favorites, which made me really happy._

_I have said it before, but I have a profound love for this story and sharing it with you all is a pleasure._

_Thank you very much to iratepirate for correcting all my typos and for the great insane times._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter 18**

**A place without limits**

_Ping._

The big metallic finger carefully clicked the glass, creating an almost musical sound.

_Ping._

Scavenger decided that it was not improper to consider the creature beautiful, even though it wasn't metallic. Of course, had it been, it would have been a worthy specimen to add to his collection, which his teammates called junk with so much ignorance.

_Ping._

"Would you stop doing that?" Bonecrusher growled as he tested the flexibility of his knuckle joints.

Scavenger's finger stopped a scarce mechano millimeter from the transparent surface of the small crystal container.

"It's the sixth time in the last seventy four astro seconds. In my opinion, the sound has gone from ordinary to irritating," Hook said, although his glance was fixated on Mixmaster. It was obvious he was expecting his comrade to fail. Mixmaster was an excellent chemist, but he wasn't a perfectionist as Hook was. Thus, there were certain levels of excellence that Mixmaster couldn't – or shouldn't – surpass.

"Inland Taipan," Scavenger said, consulting his data banks. "Also known as Fierce Snake or _Oxyuranus microlepidotus. _It has the most toxic venom among all terrestrial snakes. Native to the territory known as Australia. A bite from the Inland Taipan can kill one hundred adult human beings. Its poison is from two hundred to four hundred times more toxic than most rattlesnakes, and fifty times as toxic as a cobra…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," Mixmaster brusquely interrupted. "It can also inject between 44 and 110 milligrams of poison in one single bite, 97 in this case. Tell me something I don't know, Scavenger, or shut it."

Scavenger approached the closest workbench and placed on its surface the crystal container with the Taipan snake inside. But he changed his mind at the last moment and lifted it up again, cuddling it almost affectionately between his hands, considering it a bad idea to leave such a fragile animal so physically close to Bonecrusher and his dying patience.

"Estimated time, Mixmaster," Scrapper said, standing beside Hook and also scrutinizing the work the Constructicon chemist was doing.

"Ten astro seconds more than my initial approximation, and there will be more if you keep asking," Mixmaster snarled. "C-can't you recognize a genius working when you see it?"

"I could question the accuracy of such statement, and I'm not exactly talking about your stutter," Hook spat, not bothering to hide his grimace of contempt.

"But you won't," Scrapper dryly said to him before returning his attention to Mixmaster. "Every astro second is invaluable. You'd do well to consider the fact that it is you who depends on this antivenin to survive, Mixmaster, because your life is dangerously attached to that human femme's right now. And I'm very much afraid ours are as well."

"In other words, if the girl dies, we will follow," Long Haul sentenced as he made the last touches to the miniature power station he was building with some selected pieces from Scavenger's collection.

"Speak for yourself," Hook spat. "I don't intend to pay for other's mistakes."

"You will if said other is one of your teammates, Hook. If a Constructicon falls, we all fall with him," Scrapper said severely.

"I would prefer none of us would fall," Bonecrusher snarled, looking at the com link at his wrist. "What do I tell Skywarp? He's requesting access for the tenth time, or seventh… whatever."

Scrapper stared profoundly at his most erratic subordinate, who continued creating what he had called himself the most unworthy mix of all his career.

"Mixmaster?" the Constructicon leader asked.

The chemist held the small crystal tube and stared at it thoughtfully for exactly 3.17 astro seconds, as Hook counted.

"Send him in," Mixmaster finally said.

Almost immediately, a purple shine announced the arrival of the teleporter Seeker. Long Haul stepped back to avoid being hit by the sudden visitor, but he didn't have enough time to protect his small masterpiece. Skywarp collapsed against the workbench and threw the miniature to the floor.

"Hey, my power station!" Long Haul complained, almost paternally, as his dearest creation was destroyed by the Seeker's rough feet.

Skywarp ignored him and addressed Scrapper. "So? You have it or not?" he brusquely asked.

"Cool down your afterburners, flyboy. It is done."

"If this doesn't save that human, nothing will," Mixmaster said. "My antivenin is as infinitely superior to the one created by the humans as a Constructicon is to a Seeker."

"Great, then she'll be rotting under a crypt at the end of the cycle," Skywarp sneered, seizing the crystal tube and disappearing.

"But what a microchip moron…" Long Haul said sadly. "Did he have to destroy my power station, among all the things he could have crushed after teleporting?"

"Take a very good look at the remains of your toy and record it in your memory banks," Bonecrusher comforted him, "because that's exactly how that Seeker's face will look after I'm done with him."

"Yes, take a very good look, Long Haul," Hook said, "because I detected an unforgivable imprecision in your pathetic imitation of a nuclear power plant. How do you expect the steam turbine to work without a nuclear reactor? It would be good if you'd learn from your mistakes and limit yourself to your function, which is transportation. I will spare you the part about being Devastator's crotch."

All glances positioned with open hostility on their snobby teammate, all except Long Haul's, who seemed to fall more into depression, if such thing was possible.

"Can you guys believe a small creature such as this can cause so much damage to a human? It's fascinating…" Scavenger said, looking proudly at the shinning brown snake inside his container. He seemed to be trying to change the subject of conversation, but his teammates knew he was talking with authentic care for his new organic pet.

"Fascinating is not a word I would use regarding a simple terrestrial reptile."

"You would be surprised to know how inaccurate and unwanted your opinions are sometimes, Hook," Scrapper dryly said. "I hope you are not planning to keep that thing, Scavenger."

"Er… no… I mean… could I?"

Scrapper shook his head. "Definitely not. I have been quite tolerant with your human vehicles' cemetery, but this is far too much."

"Besides, it's almost dead," Long Haul said. "Mixmaster was not gentle when he extracted the sample of its venom."

"Mixmaster and gentle don't mix," Mixmaster himself giggled.

"I still don't understand what an Australian snake was doing so far away from its place of origin. I think I missed the part in its technical specifications that states this species is a great swimmer."

"Yeah, and they can swim thousands and thousands of mechano miles. Hey, perhaps they can even fly, pffffttt…" Bonecrusher spat. "Is your processor damaged, Scavenger? That thing didn't arrive here by itself. That human queen brought it so it could be her passport to the pit."

"That doesn't have any logic," Hook said.

Long Haul nodded. "It's true. That Adara queen got herself bitten on purpose, like Cleopatra, you know?"

"Who the slag is Cleopatra?" Bonecrusher asked.

"Another human queen. I heard some of the workers in the palace mention her a couple of breems ago, right before Megatron ordered Mixmaster to create that antivenin."

"Spending your time with flesh creatures, Long Haul? Why am I not surprised?"

"Your attitude is beginning to tire me, _Hooker,_" Long Haul scowled, taking a menacing step toward his companion.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't deform my designation with offensive human terms. Otherwise, I predict a lot of pain in your immediate future," Hook replied, willing to scratch his impeccable paintjob with some functional violence.

"Enough you two," Scrapper immediately imposed order.

"I don't spend time among squishies," Bonecrusher said, "but I have audios."

"What do you mean?" Scavenger asked.

Bonecrusher burst into laughter. "Oh, you guys wouldn't believe it… there is this rumour about that girl wanting to kill herself to teach Megatron a lesson."

"A lesson for Megatron? And what would the purpose of that be?"

"You can be so naïve, Hook," Bonecrusher continued. "You are not going to tell me you haven't realized what is happening right under your face plates, are you?"

Hook's optic visor shone with fury, just as every time he was associated with ignorance. "Explain yourself."

"Well, Megatron and the girl, alone in the night…"

"Enough, Bonecrusher," Scrapper spat. "It isn't our function to consider the existence of rumours."

"Oh… so you also knew about Megatron and his torrid romance?"

"Like I said, our duties are far too important to waste our time commenting on what are certainly nothing but lies. And even if they weren't, our place is to obey and to shut up."

"Ewww… Can you guys imagine, interfacing with a human? D-disgusting…"

"Silence, Mixmaster! If I hear another word about this matter, all of you will work double shift and with the half of your energon rations. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, yeah… don't blow a gasket, would you Scrapper?" Bonecrusher said.

"Go back to your duties now. Long Haul, Mixmaster, Bonecrusher, I believe you have pending work on the petroleum fields, am I right?"

"As you command, oh brave leader," Mixmaster mocked, trying to imitate Starscream when he addressed Megatron with cynicism.

The three Constructicons left their provisionary workshop, playfully pushing each other when reaching the exit for the privilege of being the first one out.

"Scavenger, get rid of that snake and get back to your obligations."

"But Scrapper…"

"You can keep it whilst we remain here, but once we finish our mission in this country I expect not to see it again, do you understand?"

Scavenger's face brightened with pure happiness, even though temporary. Before he abandoned the workshop as well, Scrapper could hear him talking to the snake, which apparently had been named _Oxy._

Scrapper shook his head and stared at Hook, who had started to work on something on a distant workbench.

"Hook…"

"Save yourself the words; I perfectly know my duties and will take care of them as soon as my rest period ends, which will happen in exactly 2.15 breems."

"What are you doing there?" Scrapper asked, approaching him.

"Rebuilding Long Haul's toy, this time with a nuclear reactor."

"That's a very good detail from you. You'll make him happy."

"I'm not doing this for him. I simply can't stand to see something built with such lack of precision."

"Of course…"

Scrapper walked away, leaving Hook to work alone. The Constructicon leader smiled beneath his face mask. Perhaps it was sentimentalism, but he definitely had a good team, a very good team.

-------------------

Among all the white fog the Universe was at that moment, Adara only remembered that pain had left as soon as Megatron had touched her and carried her in his arms. Fear had taken its place, panic actually. As her blood was spilling from every one of the orifices of her body, she had stopped at the crossroad of her own caprice.

Regret happened fast, as fast as the impulse to end her life had arrived.

So she held to life; she didn't give up even though she could feel the serpent's venom travelling through her body like a second blood, or perhaps it was her own remorse for surrendering to her childhood's last pout.

Within the veil that her posterior memories were, she decided to leave the child to die. Human and metallic hands touched her, needles perforated her skin, tubes were inserted in her nose and mouth. She couldn't breathe for herself, that she had it clear. She couldn't see the traces of her breath on the huge red visor that positioned above her. She recognized the silent masked robot, Megatron's favorite lieutenant, Soundwave… He was always so indifferent, so cold and distant. The touch of his hard hands completely lacked of passion, just as his stoic stare.

Pain made itself present, not as a consequence but as a punishment. She would have liked it to remain, to remind her that she had to keep attached to that chaos of curtains, blood and delirium that she was trying to recognize as survival.

Then she felt it, as clear as if it was touching her, the glance of that unique being in the Universe that she had given herself to in body and soul. If Megatron was there, with her, then there was still hope. She couldn't see him, she couldn't touch him, even less please him… but she could feel him, staring at her, perhaps with despise, perhaps with hate, but staring at her after all.

Would he feel pain if she died? Would he dedicate one single thought of sadness to her, even if fleeting? It hurt her not to know the answer to those questions, it hurt to admit that most probably he would consider her nothing more than a dead corpse.

But, perhaps, in that moment of lifted curtains he could understand. Her reasons didn't matter, even less her tears. He had to understand and accept that she loved him, that he was the only one she had ever loved, that it was his contempt that had made her look for death the same way she was now clawing with her nails at any edge of life she could reach. Could Megatron understand that, her infinite passion, the core itself of her existence?

From some distant place, she felt the refreshing nocturnal breeze of the desert.

She smiled, or believed she did. Dawn would arrive soon.

----------------

Adara didn't remember having opened her eyes. The marble ceiling above, the cupola with emeralds on its borders, the golden chandeliers… They were all there, motionless, within the fog that her vision still was. From the darkness, she could guess night had arrived again. Had she been unconscious for an entire day, for an entire lifetime?

She was still dizzy. For a moment she thought it was a dream. Or worse, she was in hell. She would spend eternity in the castle she had learned to hate, alone, with nothing more than bloody masses on the floor as paternal figures.

A sharp pain on her right ankle reopened paradise's doors to her. She uncovered her body from the blankets and looked at the bandaged inferior part of her leg. Two small but deadly marks surely remained there.

New familiar shapes came into her vision. Her big mirror framed in diamonds, her piano… loneliness sneaking through so many objects that were nothing more than luxurious prison bars.

"If you ever try something as stupid as that again, I'll kill you myself."

She flinched at the sound of the voice, as she would have facing an orgasm, brutal, sudden, unexpected… but infinitely pleasant.

She sat on the bed and looked aside, recognizing her master within the shadows.

She knew, she understood… She felt embarrassed, ridiculed by her own actions. There had been no honour in her childish attempt of redemption. She accepted her newfound maturity the same way she accepted that her life belonged only to Megatron.

Adara stood up. Her legs failed and her knees painfully received the cold kiss of the marble. But she wouldn't disappoint him again. She dragged herself on her hands and knees toward Megatron, her anxious glance fixated on him.

The narrowed red optics shone like blood. His coldness could be perceived, as well as his contempt, but Adara could also recognize that thing he would never admit. Relief… mixed impudently with his pain and his fury.

Adara reached Megatron's right arm, that rested on his folded knee.

Then it happened, an action so instinctive that her brain accepted as something natural.

Soft lips touched metal, and remained there. United to Megatron's dark hand, Adara said good bye to her former self with the most honest tears she had ever cried, and the most honest kiss…

Words of forgiveness came out from her mouth, unintelligible but clear enough for the object of her devotion.

Megatron didn't speak more, didn't move. He remained sitting on the floor, accepting all the kisses and all the apologies she had for him that night.

Later, when thinking about that night, Adara didn't remember the exact moment when she fell asleep. She only remembered having kissed Megatron's hand again and again and again… However, she remembered having woken up at some point to find her arms still hugging his fingers, her lips still gracing his hand, a rough hand that was surprisingly warm.

She never thanked him for staying with her. It was one of so many things that happened that night that didn't need the use of words.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

  
_

_Why a Taipan snake, instead of an asp or a King Cobra? Of course I wanted to give a little homage to Cleopatra's death, who supposely died making herself bitten by an asp, although later researchs have good bases to say that it may have been a King Cobra instead. But I decided for the Taipan, one of my favorite animals ever. Australian indeed, but in some exotic castle somehow taken from the One and Thousand Arabian nights, I think it's very possible to find one of those beautiful and deadly creatures, the perfect way for Adara to, as Boncrusher elegantly said it, be her passport to the pit._

_It was also my first time writing the Constructicons that much. I hope I did them justice._

_Thank you for reading. Please let me know your comments._


	19. A tale of scars and facsimiles

_I don't dare to look at the date of the last time I updated this fic :oP But I know it has been a while, so I deeply apologize. I have said it before, but it's really problematic writing so many fics at the same time and having so little time for fanfiction. But it's my vice, so I can assure I'll keep giving up to that vice for a long time._

_As for this story, the only thing I can say is that I love it, one of the reasons why I didn't update it earlier. I started to write this chapter months ago but I wasn't convinced with it, so I left it to rest until a couple of days ago, when I opened the file again and rewrote practically the entire chapter._

_No more rambling. Thank you very much for your patience and support. I hope you will enjoy this update._

_Many thanks to iratepirate for beta reading and providing her always valuable advice._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 19  
**

**A tale of scars and facsimiles**

"This one?"

The delicate feminine voice slipped like silk over the edge of a sword, deaf to the silences of her robotic master, oblivious to danger. It seemed that the warm metal beneath her entered through her skin, defying all logic and all nature.

"Please, Megatron… how did you get this one?" Adara repeated, not for the first time that night.

"A missile," Megatron finally conceded.

Primus himself wouldn't have known if his reply was a signal of defeat. What was defeat, anyway, when a metallic god had a naked terrestrial female prostrated on his chest?

"What about this one?"

"A Cybertronian scimitar."

Adara passed her hand over the dent with unique tenderness. Olive nudity caressing silver metal, impossible lovers merging in a touch created by what the Universe defined so easily as lust.

"From your days as a gladiator?"

She didn't have to see him to know he was frowning.

"What do you know about that?"

"Not as much as I would like to… But please don't be mad, Megatron. All I wanted was to know more about you, so I did some research… Everything concerning you fascinates me, you should already know that."

And now he was grimacing… How predictable he was, her master, her warlord, her Commander of a million robots…

_Her lover…_

"I would give my life if I could go back to the past to see you in one of those combats… I heard you were brutal, undefeatable, idol and nightmare of crowds… I would have given myself to you, right there in those arenas… Would you have taken me, Megatron, in front of all your followers, allowing my blood to crown your victories?"

"You are one sick creature, human."

"And you are the only one to blame for my disease," Adara cooed as she continued caressing Megatron's wide chest with her right hand, travelling delicately over the signals of violence and pain that the Decepticon leader had chosen to maintain intact.

"This one is deeper than the other scars…" Adara said, stopping the dance of her fingers on a dent very close to Megatron's right shoulder.

Crimson optics narrowed, emitting hate in its most pure state. "That's Optimus Prime."

"You really hate him, don't you?"

"I detest him."

"Does he hate you too?"

"Fiercely, even though his pitiful hypocrisy fools him into repressing the feelings dictated by his true nature."

"I would say he has no love for you, by looking at this… But I don't understand, Megatron. Why don't you have these scars repaired? You are a robot; you can be perfect all the time, eternally young and beautiful…"

"These are not scars, they are reminders."

"Oh yes, and I can see the history behind them… Your first gladiatorial match, your first combat as leader of the Decepticons, your first encounter with Optimus Prime… For a tyrant as ruthless as yourself, you're pretty poetical, my lord."

"_Poetical?"_

"Yes, yes… don't make me explain it because I couldn't… not in terms you would be able to understand, anyway… But if you could see through me right now, as I listen to your life pumping inside your body… then you would understand… you would understand so many things."

Megatron grunted with impatience. "If you are attempting to provoke my anger, you are on the way. Beware, flesh creature, you should already know I have no tolerance toward ridicule."

Adara laughed; an unusual, innocent tone came out from her amusement. "I know... Actually, I know so many things about you that you should be afraid."

"Afraid of you?" Megatron asked scornfully.

"Of my absence. Are you going to lie now, saying that you were not worried about me during my little flirt with death?"

"Nonsense."

"I knew you would say that, but we both know better, don't we my lord?"

Megatron moved, signaling his desire to abandon his comfortable position on the giant pillow that supported his imposing structure, but Adara wasn't going to let him go so easily.

"Please say my name."

Megatron shot a glance toward her that would have made others tremble.

"Say my name," she repeated. "You always call me human, flesh creature, fleshling… but not by my name. Please say it, even if just once, like that night in which you made me yours for the first time…"

Megatron growled with impatience. "I don't recall having said your name that night."

"Forgive my insolence, my lord, but I think you do… You must remember how you moaned it…"

This time the signals emanating from Megatron's frame were clear threats. Adara liked to believe that no one else could read him like she could. There was something surreal in the connection between two beings once the barriers of the bodies were trespassed.

She got up, her feet standing firmly on the Decepticon insignia on Megatron's chest. The moonlight gently caressed her naked figure, outlining her silhouette with a ghostly caress.

"Do you like my body, Megatron?"

"It's not as repulsive to me as it was before."

Melodic laughter came from her never-satiated lips. "And that's the closest thing to a compliment you will ever tell me…"

"What do you care about compliments? Don't I please your squishy spoiled self enough?"

"As always, the eternal romantic… but yes, you do please me, more than anybody could please me in a thousand lives."

"And, as always, you attempt to reach me through your pathetic rambling. I would've given you more intelligence than that, femme."

"Seems that I am as transparent to you as you are to me… Be careful, Megatron, it may look as though we are made for each other…"

"I have only one question. Is this the worst you can try in attempting to provoke my amusement? Because you're going in the complete opposite direction, be warned of that."

Adara smirked. "Please don't be angry with me, my lord. I was just trying to say that certainly subtlety has never been your biggest asset when addressing women."

"Cybertronian females are fighters. They don't waste their time in trivialities like aesthetic matters as the ones of your kind do. And you are no exception, even when your lifespan is so reduced. In my world, you wouldn't have survived one astro klik."

"Don't underestimate me, Megatron. If anything, I'm a survivor."

Now it was Megatron's turn to smirk. "Interesting concept you are using, considering your childish attempt at suicide. For a survivor, you are quite a joke."

"Mmmmh… and you certainly love to remind me of that, don't you? As close as I was to that inexistent light at the end of the tunnel, do you want to know the one thing that kept me alive?"

"No, but I'm afraid you will say it anyway."

Adara ignored his words, for once. "You… the fear or not being with you again…"

Megatron's face was unreadable for a moment, but right when Adara was starting to be seduced by the possibility of getting through to him, the Decepticon leader started to laugh. Cruelty, mockery and scorn came out with his guffaws, sharp as knives.

Adara frowned and sat, embracing her bare legs with her jeweled arms. "There you go again, you and your romantic reactions! You have no clue about how to treat a lady, Megatron!"

"And now you pout, just like the child you really are," Megatron said once he finished laughing. "You remind me of Starscream, and trust me, that's not an association you want me to make."

Adara grimaced, turning her head with disdain, but her reaction only seemed to increase Megatron's amusement. And just as predicted, the sudden outburst of his naked terrestrial queen was as long as a fleeting star.

"What would you have felt, then, if I had died?" she asked, turning to look at him again. "Would that big, bad computer you have for a brain have felt sorrow?"

"Sorrow is not a word I would use. If anything, your deactivation would have forced me to take a new course of action."

"I say it again, Megatron. You certainly know how to make a woman feel good… But it's alright. You can say everything you want and still you can't fool me."

Megatron narrowed his optics, aimed on Adara like fixating on a target. "What I would like to know is the best way to shut your squishy vocalizer off."

Adara smirked with her most obscene seduction. "I think you know the perfect way to do it... how to turn my words into moans… and the fact that you're still here proves just how much you want some more of me tonight…" She lay down on his chest again, grazing his insignia with her lips. "And since you are so fond of these scars you call the past, allow me to add my own story…"

And then she kissed him, a practice that was starting to become frequent in their nocturnal encounters.

* * *

A skinny, yellowish dog barked from the shadows, willing to defend with his life the piece of bone he had managed to find within the trash.

But the man didn't pay any attention to the animal, busy as he was devouring the distance that separated him from his destination.

Finally he reached it, the half-closed, dirty door at the end of the alley. He entered with the trust that only somebody who had been there before could have, but his brusque movements exposed his anxiety.

He made his way through the tables like a sleepwalker, the textile of his long thobe grazing chairs and vice as if they were the same thing, his eyes not dedicating a single glance to the men who cheerfully clinked their glasses in rude toasts, to the semi naked women who were on the knees of strangers, to the white lines of dust that disappeared inside frenetic noses…

He had never seen him, but he found his objective at the end of the tavern, sitting alone at an empty table below a small window. The moonlight was gently caressing the silhouette, which suddenly seemed ghostly.

The man stopped his fast pace, glancing with awe at the stranger already waiting for him. There was something very surreal in that sitting figure, something that justified why he was isolated in one of the most crowded underground taverns of a country in which even the liberty of inebriating was restricted.

A cold shiver travelled through the newcomer's spine as the young man before him glanced back at him. His eyes, which had an indefinite opaque tone, didn't blink when he made a small gesture with his head, perhaps a greeting.

The man forced his body to move again and hurried to sit on the free chair at the other side of the table, nothing but a bottle and two empty glasses between him and the stranger.

"General Ghazi, I presume?" the young man asked. His mouth had moved, but the rest of his body remained motionless like a statue.

"Y… yes…. Mister… Mister Latta?"

"In the flesh," the young man replied, smirking as if he had made a joke only he could understand.

"Am I late?" General Ghazi asked, looking at his watch with a frown. "I was sure you said we would meet two hours after midnight…"

"Relax, General. It's not you who is late, but me who is early."

"Huh… yes, of course…"

"Would you like a drink? What's the point of being in a tavern if drinking's not involved?"

The General nodded and opened the bottle, filling the two glasses and using the time to analyze his companion as discreetly as he could.

A first glance would have found a tanned and very good looking young man in his twenties dressed in a dark blue suit. A second glance, however, would have sensed something very unnatural in that figure, a monster behind the façade.

Because there was something frightening in that young man, something behind the smoothness of his skin, his perfect facial features, his tidied appearance… General Ghazi didn't know how, but he could have sworn that those opaque eyes before him seemed… dead.

The General hurried to empty his glass, trying to shake those thoughts out of his head.

"Now that the basic courtesy rituals have been performed, it's time to proceed to our business," Latta said, not dedicating one single glance to his glass of liquor. "You may forgive my roughness, but my time is very limited."

"Yes, of course…" the General nodded. "I must admit your call earlier today intrigued me…"

"Intrigued? I would say it was more than that, General. After all, as far as I know it's not public knowledge that you serve interests very different from the ones of your country."

The hand of the General tensed on the glass. "We may have different opinions about the interests of this country, Mister Latta."

The young man chuckled. "But of course, I wouldn't have expected otherwise. After all, you are not a traitor, am I right General?"

The middle aged man further tightened his grip on his empty glass, fixating his eyes on the rough surface of the table. "No, Mister Latta, I'm no traitor."

"That's what I thought. If such wasn't the case, believe me we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

The General closed his eyes, defeated. "What do you want?"

The young man leaned forward, resting one of his elbows on the table. "Not to blackmail you, if that's what you were thinking. It's true that I know you provide information to the enemies of this country and their… robotic friends, which is more than enough for you to lose your head as the tacit laws of this country dictate."

"You don't have proof—"

The young man raised his arm, silencing General Ghazi in an instant. "If you don't have the habit of listening, flesh creature, now it would be a good moment to start. I told you blackmail is not my purpose, but quite the opposite. I summoned you here to offer you my help."

_Flesh creature? _Who exactly was that Mister Latta?

"Help…? And why would you want to _help_ me?"

The young man increased his smirk. "Because, General, I have a big interest in justice. Things have been… unbalanced lately. I dare to assume that you, just as I, don't approve of the behavior your dearest sovereign has been showing lately."

The General fidgeted uneasily on his chair. "Everything has been pretty hectic lately, indeed… but unfortunately I no longer have access to the Queen in order to advise her. Lord Megatron's soldiers keep her out of my reach… out of anybody's reach."

"More reason to return things to their natural status, the status they should have always had, don't you agree?"

The General filled his glass again, looking with distrust at the young man. "And what's in it for you in return of this… regain of balance?"

A cold shiver travelled again through the General as Latta's opaque eyes suddenly seemed to shine. The General could have sworn that for a moment they had had a red shade.

"My reasons don't concern you, but let's say that I have a big interest in the liberation of this country from the claws of that monster known as Megatron."

"What do you have to do with Lord Megatron?" the middle aged man asked, shivering in fear at the mere sound of the name.

Once again, red fire shined in those terrifying eyes. "Lord? That brute is no Lord!" Latta cried, his voice suddenly sounding screechy and metallic.

The General felt his blood freezing inside his body. He had heard that voice before… in the metallic carapace of King Kadar's assassin… but it couldn't be…

But _Mister Latta _returned to his relaxed façade almost immediately. "Whatever doubts you have concerning my motives are out of the question. As I said, my time here is very limited. Limit yourself to listening and understanding. The mission I have for you is quite simple, but of great importance."

Despite his dread, it was General Ghazi's time to smirk. He was a veteran military man after all, survivor of a thousand intrigues and former right hand of the deceased King Kadar. There was no way that some brat, no matter how scary he looked, was going to intimidate him.

"Now you listen to me, punk. I don't know who you think you are, but you should be aware of who I am. If you thought you could come here with silly words and expect me to do your will, you are very mistaken. Blackmailing a high ranked officer is a serious felony, not to mention accusing him of calumnies…"

Cruel laughter came from the unimpressed Latta. "My, my… General, you are more naïve than I thought if you believed I came here, as you said, with nothing more than silly words. Threats, you see, are not my style. I prefer to offer simple but realistic facts."

The young man directed his hand toward the insides of his jacket. Immediately, General Ghazi grabbed the handle of his gun, pointing it beneath the table to Latta's stomach.

But no metal came out of that jacket, nothing but a small yellow envelope. Latta threw it with certain disdain toward the military man.

"I understand, General, that your kind is very fond of their family units, please correct me if I'm mistaken," the young man said as the General opened the envelope with distrust, his eyes opening in horror.

Never had an ordinary day been so horrible for the experienced soldier. There it was, displayed before his eyes, an exact pursuit of his morning… Every corner of his highly guarded palace, every place he had believed to be safe… But it was the series of pictures of his little daughter playing that made his heart cry in panic. His biggest treasure, his precious jewel, the flower guarded by a dozen soldiers… there she was, defenseless and innocent, at the mercy of whatever had captured her image again and again and again.

The pictures hadn't touched the floor yet when General Ghazi was already on his feet, roughly grasping the jacket of his companion and with the barrel of his gun already touching the young man's chest.

"You son of a bitch! How did you get these?"

Latta didn't seem to be impressed by the weapon aiming right at his heart. The only reaction he had was the increase of his mocking smirk.

"Technology, my dear General, is something that should never be underestimated. It has no limits, and it has no ethics either."

Terrorized and infuriated, the General shot. The muffled sound of the silencer of his gun was perfectly covered by the music and the laughter coming from behind.

Once again, Latta didn't react. The bullet pierced his body cleanly, finishing its trip in the wall behind him. General Ghazi's fear reached his limits when he saw no blood coming from the wound, nothing but a silver dust that slightly soiled the young man's expensive suit.

"W… who… who are you…?" the General stammered.

Latta smiled, almost innocently. "The question is, General, _what _I am." He held the General's wrist so strongly that the military man could hear his bones protesting. His gun fell lax to the floor as his hand was released by that body that didn't bleed.

And then the General knew, the reason why he had felt instinctive fear toward that young man. Ever since he had seen him for the first time, the General hadn't noticed him breathing, not even once.

"If you could please get away from me, I would really appreciate it. I hate to be touched," Latta continued, "As for any inquiry about my identity, I'm afraid it's beyond your comprehension. All you need to know is that I'm at your side, and that everything you need to become a hero is right beneath you."

General Ghazi fell heavily on his chair again, only to feel the metallic suitcase against his leg.

"What… what is this…?"

"The instructions and everything you will need to save this country from the tyrant Megatron. I'm sure a man of your experience will understand the importance of keeping this matter to yourself. I don't need to say how others could misunderstand the actions of a real hero, or the need for his family unit to remain functional, don't you agree, General?"

"Y… yes…"

Latta took his glass and raised it. "Good. That settles it, then. Now, a toast to our success. To the defeat of Megatron – and to the liberation of your country, of course…"

The shivering hand of the General grasped his glass and clicked it against the other one, almost breaking it with the awkwardness of the movement. As he directed it without thinking towards his lips, the General noticed that Latta tossed the contents of his glass to the floor and stood up.

"You may forgive my lack of manners, General, but I'm afraid my systems are not adequate for this fuel… Now, if you excuse me, I should retire. Don't dare to follow me. Your time is even more limited than mine, so you better hurry and dedicate your efforts to the fulfilling of your assignment. Proceed with caution, but do not fear. You have nothing to worry about. I'll be watching you," Latta pointed upwards, "from up there."

Of course General Ghazi didn't dare to follow Mister Latta; he couldn't have done it, even if he had wanted to. He remained attached to his chair long after the young man left the tavern. But if he had dared to follow the creature he had presumed to be a young man as he walked through the deserted streets, perhaps he wouldn't have been surprised when that body without blood, that body that didn't breathe, that man that hadn't been born from woman, collapsed to the ground and started to melt into a weird mixture of organic tissue and liquid metal.

Of course, General Ghazi would have never known that that creature hadn't ceased to exist, but rather returned to his real self, not so many miles away from there.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

_

_Facsimile avatars were used by both Autobots and Decepticons, but whilst the Autobots used them as a way to blend into the terrestrial society, the Decepticons created them for evil purposes. In the IDW continuity it's mentioned that many experiments lead to the creation of bio-technological organisms that mimicked real humans, completely loyal to their Decepticon masters but still able to perform actions on their own. For this story, I used a type of facsimile without any will of his own, but that can be controlled at a distance, a process similar to the one when Megatron and Starscream controlled clones of Optimus Prime and Starscream himself, respectively, in the G1 episode "A Prime problem"._

_And, of course, it's really easy to guess who was behind that Mister Latta facsimile ;o) Besides the fact that his name makes it obvious, I kind of borrowed the humanized version of Starscream that my friend iratepirate and I are using for our fic "Fleshling", which can be found in our joint account._

_Thanks for reading and I promise, this time for real, a much faster update. Please review and let me know your opinions._


	20. The night of the Ifrits

_**Afreet**__—also spelled __**ifrit**__, __**efreet**__, __**ifreet**__, and __**afrit**__ are __supernatural__ creatures in __Arabic__ and __Islamic__ cultures. They are in a class of infernal __djinn__, spirits below the level of angels, noted for their strength and cunning._

_Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. _

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 20**

**The night of the Ifrits**

Infinite and capricious grains of sand danced around the two imposing figures that stood face to face within the dunes. They had been there for some minutes, hours perhaps, speaking in the divine language of the demons, challenging their surroundings and appropriating them as their own. Were they there to play with the mortals, to twist their fates so viciously that at the end their poor miserable lives would break like the last string of a lute?

"Are you sure all the intel is in here?" one said, tall but with his shoulders slumped, holding a quadrangular object within his hands, shivering in sin.

"I already told you it is," the other one said, equally tall and with the sharp wings of a demon protruding from his back. "The locations of all the explosives and the hour of the detonations are specifically detailed. I can count, I suppose, on one hundred percent clearance?"

The wingless ifrit, the tormented one, nodded slowly. "That's what I promised you, and that's what you'll have."

"Excellent. Make sure to keep your comrades away. If uncomfortable encounters occur, be aware that you'll be on your own."

"I know, I know, slag it! Look, just… just take care of your part of the deal and I'll take care of mine."

The winged creature sneered. "And keep an eye on your insufferable brother. My reports indicate that he has been sneaking around closer than my diplomatic demeanor is able to tolerate."

"I'll keep 'Sides off your back, don't worry… make sure you keep _your _insufferable brothers away."

"I have no brothers," contempt spoke.

"Wingmates, or whatever slag you call them… Just remember what happened last time."

"That was only because _your _brother doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. Besides, it was him who crossed that border, now didn't he?"

"Leave Sideswipe out of this! He doesn't know anything about this and I intend to keep it that way."

Arms folded across a golden glass canopy, another sneer… "As you wish. As long as you honour our agreement, I don't care a slag about your brother or any other of your dearest comrades in arms."

"I am one who honours my agreements, and I hope I'll be able to say the same about you when all this finishes."

"You have no reason to doubt, Autobot. It's a double win here. Your kind will arise once again like the heroes, saving this filthy piece of planet from the tyranny of the Decepticons."

"And you will arise as their new leader…"

"Nothing but a fair reward for my services."

Two shining, blue optics focused on his counterpart. "What about the humans? I have very little sympathy for the flesh bags, but still, I want to keep the casualties as low as possible."

"Typical Autobot philosophy… you are aware that's the reason why you are losing this war, aren't you _Sunny_?"

"Don't you dare call me that! And answer my question, you megalomaniac slaghead!"

"Mmh, no need to get rude here… And no need to worry about the fleshlings either. I have them covered. If you provide me the clearance I require, I guarantee that not even one of them will end up with their brains smashed, at least not by my hands. Is that enough?"

A heavy pause followed. When the silence ended, several seconds after, the wind had stopped playing god with the sand. "What about Megatron?"

A screeching and maniacal laugh increased its intensity, coming from the throat of the winged ifrit. "Oh, you don't have to worry about him! I have that inconvenience covered too, and in such a way… You will give his head as a present to your righteous leader. And if I know Optimus Prime as well as I think I do, that will be a sight that won't entirely displease him."

A grunt was the response, filled with the kind of discomfort that happened after shaking hands with the demon. "Just remember, as soon as it happens, you and the rest of the Decepticon scums will flee from this place, got it?"

"As we agreed," the winged ifrit said as he removed his right hand and allowed his divine purple blood to moisten the sand. "Now, to bind our agreement, we shall partake in the most sacred of Cybertronian rituals: the rite of oneness."

The other one didn't move, perhaps caressing that fleeting moment that defined a hero from a traitor. He eventually did the same thing as his companion. "To symbolize the strength of our agreement, we each contribute a portion of our fuel, and let our contributions mix and join as one," he recited, like a machine.

Both voices spoke together afterwards in perfect synchronization. "Now, with this sacrifice, so shall our bond be sealed. Whosoever breaks the bond gives his life in forfeit according to our Cybertronian law."

Thus the pact was sealed, blood above promises, sworn enemies sharing a fleeting but unique loyalty.

"What now, Starscream?" the defeated one said.

The other one smirked. "Now we create war."

* * *

"_Tell me where it hurts."_

The footsteps sounded almost musical, as if they were following a tacit music sheet. Distant lights at the end of the street announced more loneliness, with the exception of two stray dogs searching for food in the garbage cans. Despite the darkness, Adara could see their ribcages protruding from their skin, a reflection of her famished people.

"_There… it hurts there… please don't stop, Megatron… please hurt me…"_

She felt as if she was walking in her dreams, but that didn't detach her from reality. Those steps were hers, the raspy ground beneath her feet challenged the fine sole of her shoes, the smell of dust and cold air entering a nose that was used to very different fragrances… But there was one sensation that eclipsed the others, that would have eclipsed anything the night could offer; the touch of the hard but warm metal against her bare thigh, threatening to melt her clothing with the devastating force only lust could produce.

"_Describe your pain to me."_

She didn't try to repress the moan that escaped through her lips, her breath painting the air with pleasure. Pain still showed itself in every step she took, but so did pleasure. Familiar wetness, overwhelming fever… but it was the realization of one of her biggest fantasies that was driving her insane during that impossible nocturnal walk.

"_It's… it's… grey… and red… Aaaaah… please go deeper, Megatron… don't mind if you kill me this time…"_

Adara reached the fountain at the center of the deserted square, dry for the lack of rain but more importantly for the lack of life. Streets were abandoned those days. Only vice dared to open its way through the soldiers and the metallic monsters, but still, it did it with fear.

She sat on the edge of the fountain. The pain between her legs a constant reminder of the previous hours, the warmth on her thigh overwhelming…

"This is the place," she said, adjusting the veil around her face, already molested by the wind. "Ifrits used to gather in this fountain to decide the fate of those mortals who were fortunate or miserable enough to have been chosen as their toys. You see, they could grant them wishes… but also nightmares."

"_Why are you smiling?"_

"_Ah… isn't it obvious?"_

"_Your madness is disturbing."_

"_You are my madness… Please don't go, Megatron. Stay with me tonight."_

"_I thought I had made it clear that I didn't want to keep hearing your stupid requests."_

"_You did, but you will keep listening to them, nevertheless… Please don't look at me like that, my Lord. I have a proposition that you may find interesting… even amusing. It's a millenary tradition that my ancients, the Sultans, passed from generation to generation."_

Just one hour later, and there they were, master and slave, although any foreign eye would have seen nothing more than a lonely figure sitting under the light of the full moon.

"The ifrits must be wandering around, they always do it on nights like this."

Something like a grunt could be heard beneath her tunic. Megatron expressing his contempt… She was not impressed.

"_I wouldn't have taken you for a superstitious creature. That sort of foolishness doesn't suit you, human," _he said, his voice perfectly clear even when he was transformed into what he had called his "alt mode."

Adara smirked beneath her veil. "Are you suggesting you have some respect for my intelligence, after all? I can't tell you how much you flatter me, my Lord."

"_If I ever had such respect, I assure you it is rapidly vanishing."_

"Just because of what you call my… superstitious foolishness? I already told you, Megatron, ifrits belong to legends. They are part of the fascination we humans have with the impossible. But what's impossible, anyway? Just look at yourself. One hour ago you were a giant alien robot fucking me to the point of bleeding, and now you are a gun that fits so perfectly in my grip… Are you or not, my love, a carrier of what yourself consider impossible?"

"_Don't call me that."_

Megatron's voice had been colder than ice. Adara knew how much he hated to be reminded that she had feelings for him, but causing him that discomfort only increased her amusement, not to mention her lust.

She lifted her tunic and exposed the perfection of her legs. Her hand seized the Walther P-38 gun secured against her thigh with a leather band, letting her fingers caress the living metal.

"Don't you ever mix among your soldiers without letting them know who you are? Being able to change your appearance so drastically, I'd say you would have… My country has a long tradition on the matter. Countless Sultans disguised as simple merchants and walked among their subjects like this, like common and anonymous citizens… That was the only way in which they could really get to know them. It's something that I started to do when I was very young, I could call it my only touch with reality."

"_I don't need to hide my presence from my soldiers, even less to know them."_

"Mmmh, you are really a tyrant, aren't you Megatron? I can see why your enemies fear you so much… it must drive you crazy that fear is something you could never impose on me."

Adara lifted the gun and removed the veil from her face. Even in gun mode and with most of his mass displaced, Megatron was too big for her delicate hands, but still it seemed as he belonged to her grip. Adara had the feeling that Megatron didn't allow many to carry him in gun mode.

"Don't you feel vulnerable like this?" she said, bringing the gun to her face.

"_Nothing and nobody can hurt me in this mode, especially in this size."_

"What about this?" Adara said, putting the barrel of the gun against her own temple. "Would _this_ hurt you?"

He didn't reply immediately, increasing the intensity of her smirk. He could be the master, but she would always be a relentless slave. _You care… you care about me, Megatron, and that's killing you…_

"_You cannot shoot unless I allow you to,"_ he finally replied.

Adara didn't need to hear more. Her finger pressed the trigger.

"You didn't answer my question," she said, more alive than ever, her heart beating so fast that it was painful.

"_What the slag do you think you are doing, you stupid human?"_ he roared. Even though in that small mode, his voice exposed his anger.

"You said I couldn't shoot unless you allowed me to. I wanted to see if that was true."

"_Obviously it is, or your putrid protoplasmic self would lie splattered over the ground at this very moment!"_

"I trusted you wouldn't allow that to happen, and I wasn't wrong. It would hurt you, my Lord… my death would hurt you. How much, on the other hand, is something that I'm afraid I can't figure it out by myself."

Megatron grumbled something unintelligible. Adara guessed he was talking in his own screechy language. That only aroused her more.

"And it's something that you won't be so kind to clarify, or course…" she finished her train of thought, feeling something related to sadness for the first time in the night.

Guttural laughter at the distance broke the magical moment. Adara was sure they wouldn't see ifrits that night, but instead her contemptuous eyes were greeted by the insult of ordinary life in the shape of three men that were crossing the square, staggering. Even over the distance, Adara could feel the sore odor of alcohol.

"_Are those your magical creatures, _Queen?_"_ Megatron said, emphasizing the last word with contempt. _"There is no wonder why the dominating race on your planet is one that begs to be conquered."_

One of the men noticed the lonely woman and signaled her. Open mouths and words of obscenity welcomed the image, an oasis of beauty within a devastated land.

"No," Adara replied quietly as the three men approached her. "They are not. But perhaps we are, Megatron. Ifrits could turn a blessing into a nightmare, they played with humans as if they were their puppets… Please allow me to be the puppeteer tonight. Please allow me to pull the strings."

The gun in her grip increased its warmth. Adara smirked, feeling a wave of pleasure between her legs.

"_Proceed."_

That was all that Megatron said. That was all she needed to hear.

Firm feet stood, steady hands tightened around the gun, their grip extremely passionate. A part of Adara was trembling, but fear was not her motivation. The moment suddenly turned magical, like one of those thousand and one nights in which Sultans had walked their cities disguised as plebeians, covered by anonymous mantles.

She pulled Megatron's trigger. This time something happened. She didn't see the first body disintegrating, she didn't see the other two twisting horribly and turning into viscous pools of blood and burned flesh, she didn't see the walls behind exploding into countless pieces, as countless as the stars… All she saw was Megatron's power released by her hands, one single shot that sealed the ultimate communion between two lovers that were challenging every code dictated by logic. They were above the Universe, and they both knew it.

The fog and the cries of horror that the chaos had awakened hadn't yet dissipated when Adara was already on her way back to the palace, eager to be possessed again by her metallic master, already pleading him to relieve her desire, aching like a burning wound between her legs.

And he listened. And he delivered. In that night of ifrits, they both gave to each other with a passion that neither of them dared to recognize, too afraid, perhaps, to give it a name.

_To be continued._

_

* * *

_

_I'm infinitely thankful for the awesome and insightful reviews that you, my dear readers, left for the previous chapter of this story, so I did my best to give you a faster update this time. _

_Why Sunstreaker?, some of you may ask. I was influenced by the 'All Hail Megatron' saga, and by the fact that Sunny was never a human lover and didn't follow an honour code as strict as other Autobots. I thought about using Prowl, since in the canon he made a couple of very, very unethical – not to mention treacherous – actions against his own comrades, but I don't think he would have ever made a deal with a Decepticon, even less Starscream._

_One of the things I loved the most about 'The one thousand and one Arabian Nights' was the continuous apparition of ifrits. I couldn't continue this story without mentioning them at least once, and also the fact that the Sultans used to wander in their cities during the night disguised as merchants or peasants. _

_The ritual of oneness happened in the Marvel comics between Megatron and Ratchet when they reached a temporary truce._

_Also, this chapter was inspired by one dialogue line in particular – the 'Tell me where it hurts' one – which I used in another fanfiction I'm currently writing in a different fandom, but my beta reader and sista iratepirate influenced me to use it here, so I accepted the challenge and I dedicate this chapter to her very bad influence ;o) _

_The dedication goes to all of you too, who have followed this story and enjoyed it beside me. Your opinions and support mean everything to me :o)_


End file.
